"And I loved her so dearly!"
"Loved whom, pet?"
"Miss Granby. Uncle, will you go to Mr. Maxwell's when Josey comes home?"
"I'll see about it."
The next morning, Ellen was learning her lessons as usual, after a great struggle in her own room for grace to forgive her teacher's unkind looks, when her aunt said,—
"I'll hear your recitations to-day, my dear. Go on and commit them as usual."
Ellen embraced her aunt in a rapturous manner.
"How could anybody believe I wanted to go away from this dear home," she said, eagerly, "when you are such a darling mother to me."
Still Ellen did not seem quite happy. Several times during the day her aunt saw her sitting lost in thought. She was wondering what motive could have induced Josey to tell such dreadful lies about her, and whether her innocence would ever be proved. Another thing also troubled her. She was afraid that she had indulged in anger toward her teacher and that God was displeased. Even now she found it difficult to say, "I can forgive her;" how, then, could she repeat the Lord's Prayer, "Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors"?
On the Sabbath, Ellen passed Miss Granby in the porch, and though blushing painfully, held out her hand as usual to the lady. Mrs. Collins was deeply grieved to see that the teacher took no notice of the friendly salutation.