“Nonsense! you know well enough, that neither papa nor Uncle George would let her do it,” Ethel heard her cousin Minnie exclaim; but then, with a sudden recollection that she was hearing what was perhaps not intended for her ear, she closed the door with tears of wounded feeling rolling down her cheeks, and began her work of gathering together articles of clothing and other things she must take with her to her new abode.
She was glad that she had said positively she would go, for if her uncles should object she could tell them she had made a promise and must be allowed to keep it. Yet, oh, how she dreaded the telling!
At the six o’clock dinner she was very silent and a close observer might have detected traces of tears on her cheeks, but her uncle’s thoughts were upon the news of the day and some business transaction, and he failed to notice anything peculiar about his little niece.
On leaving the table he went into the library and took up the evening paper. His wife and older daughters had gone to their own apartments to dress for an evening party or concert, the younger children to the playroom, and he was alone till Ethel stole quietly in after him.
He glanced up at her as she drew near his chair.
“What is it, Ethel, my dear? have you something to say to me?” he asked pleasantly, “something you want no one else to hear?” Then noticing how her color came and went, that her eyes were full of tears and she was trembling visibly, “Why, what is it, child?” and he drew her near to his side, put an arm about her as he spoke, and bade her not to be afraid to tell him all that troubled her.
“Oh, uncle, you are so kind!” she sobbed, the tears now rolling down her cheeks; “I do love you so, but—but I can’t bear to stay here and be such an expense and burden to you when you have so many children of your own to provide for and I ought to be earning my own living.”
“Tut, tut, who has put all that nonsense into your head?” he asked in a tone of mingled amusement and irritation. “I won’t have it. I am entirely able to take care of my brother’s little girl as well as my own. So stop crying, dry your eyes, and be as happy and merry as you can, nor ever think that uncle grudges you your home, victuals, and clothes.”
“Oh, I don’t, I don’t think that, dear Uncle Albert,” she said, putting her arms about his neck and kissing him with ardent affection; “but I’m almost a woman now and I want to earn my own living and, as soon as I’m able, to help my brother and sisters; and, and—oh, please don’t be angry with me, but I—I’ve made an engagement to be a clerk in a little store with a very nice kind woman who will treat me just like one of the family and——”
“Is it possible, Ethel!” exclaimed Mr. Eldon, and his tone was full of displeasure. “Indeed I shall allow nothing of the kind. Let my brother’s daughter go into a store? No, indeed! not while I have abundant means to support her as well as my own family.”