The next afternoon, the doctor in driving from one patient to another, stopped at the house and beckoned Ellen, who sat at the window, to come to the door.
"Tell your aunt," he said, "that she is to have company to tea. The lady will be here about five, and I'll try to be at home by that time."
The doctor and his guest came up the yard together. He was in high spirits, while the lady looked anxious.
Ellen ran to the door to meet her uncle and give him her usual kiss of welcome. Miss Granby bowed rather stiffly.
After tea, the doctor ushered his company into the parlor, and then began in rather a formal manner,—
"I have seen Miss Josey—"
"Oh, uncle, I'm so glad—"
"Hush, pet! I have the floor now. I saw the young lady. I had considerable difficulty in bringing her to the point, but finally overcame her objections, and prevailed on her to put her confession in writing. Here it is, and I do not hesitate to declare the statements she made regarding Ellen as lies of first-rate malignity; lies which any person acquainted with our pet could scarcely credit."
He passed the paper to his wife, who read as follows:—
"I, Josey Maxwell, do hereby confess that every word I reported concerning the conversation that passed between Ellen Saunders and myself was false,—that I told the story because I hated her for being a favorite among the scholars; and for reporting that I whispered in the class; and because she talked to me on the subject of lying. It was for the same reason I made her promise not to relate what had passed between us, from which promise she is now free.
"JOSEY MAXWELL."