"Poor Aunt Herbert!" exclaimed Mary, touched with sympathy for such a loss.
"Yes, my dear child," said Mr. Wallace, "you may well pity her for losing such a daughter, her only daughter; your Aunt Herbert hopes that you will do more than pity her, that you will send her by me another daughter in your sister Ellen, to whom she will be just such a mother as she was to Lucy Herbert. She wished to have you both come to her as her daughters, but your Uncle Villars does not think it wise that you should leave H. just at present; he consents, however, that Ellen should go to her aunt, if you are both willing."
From the moment Ellen's name was mentioned, the sisters had sat looking earnestly into each other's eyes.
"Ellen," said Mr. Wallace, "will you not go with me, and be another Lucy to this good aunt?"
"I could not be like Lucy—I am not good enough; and I cannot leave Mary—I cannot leave Mary for anybody."
Mary threw her arm around Ellen, and drew her closely to her side, answering all Mr. Wallace's arguments only with her tears, or a silent shake of the head. Colonel Melville attempted to influence her, and then she spoke: "Oh! Colonel Melville, I cannot let Ellen go: I promised my mother, when I was a very little girl, and then I promised my father when he was on his death-bed, that I never would part with Ellen, and I cannot do it."
"Mary," said Colonel Melville, "I do not wish you to do it; none wish you to do it, unless you feel it to be not only right but desirable, and all I would ask of you now is that you and Ellen too would think before you decide on a question of so much importance. As respects your promise, you could not have promised that she should not leave you, because about that, you know, she will one of these days have a will of her own, and you cannot prevent her going from you if she chooses it. Now Ellen's home with you is not, I fear, a very happy one,"—Ellen colored and looked down at these words,—"and you have it not in your power to make it so; and here your kind aunt sends and asks her to come to her and be her daughter, promising to cherish her as her own dear child. Mrs. Herbert will educate Ellen as few are capable of doing, and so enable her to be of use to herself and to you too, if the necessity for your labors continue. And there will be no force exercised over Ellen's wishes there, more than here. I doubt not if, after six months or a year's trial of her home there, she should be dissatisfied, and wish to return to you, she will be permitted to do so."
"Will she, sir?—May she come back if she should wish to?" asked Mary quickly, turning to Mr. Wallace.
"Certainly, my dear; your aunt's desire is to make Ellen happy, and that could not be done by keeping her against her will. But I would not have you make up your minds in a hurry—take to-night to think about it. You have, I hope, been taught to pray; ask your heavenly Father to direct you to what is best for you. I intended to set off to-morrow afternoon on my way home, but I will wait till the next morning for Ellen, if you will give me your answer in the course of the day, or to-morrow."
And so it was determined. The children consented to defer their decision till the next day, and Colonel Melville advised that nothing more should then be said on the subject. I saw, however, that though they did not speak of it, Mary and Ellen both thought of it; for more than once I saw Mary's eyes fill with tears as they rested on her sister, and Ellen herself perceiving it at one time, shook her head, and said with a smile, "You need not be afraid, Mary; I shall not leave you." These thoughts, however, did not interfere with Ellen's enjoyment of her supper, which, from the appetite with which it was eaten, was, I doubt not, the only regular meal she had made that day.