"You an orphan!" returned Miss Porter. "Well, if I ever! Who adopted your sister?"
"A poor woman in the country," was Ella's answer.
Miss Porter, who was a notorious flatterer, replied, "I must see her, for if she is any thing like you, I shall love her instantly."
"Oh, she isn't like me" said Ella, with a curl of her lip. "She's smart enough, I suppose, but she hasn't a bit of polish or refinement. She doesn't come here often, and when she does, I am always in a fidget, for fear some of the city girls will call, and she'll do something outré."
"I guess, then, I won't go down, at least not till I'm dressed," answered Miss Porter; and Ella, throwing on a dressing-gown, descended to the parlor, where she met her sister with the ends of her fingers, and a simple, "Ah, Mary, how d'ye do? Are you well?"
After several commonplace remarks, Ella at last asked, "How did you know I was at home?"
"Mr. Knight told me," said Mary.
"Mr. Knight," repeated Ella; "and pray, who is he? I don't believe he's on my list of acquaintances."
"Do you remember the man who carried me to the poor-house?" asked Mary.
"Hush—sh!" said Ella, glancing nervously towards the door. "There is a young lady up stairs, and it isn't necessary for her to know you've been a pauper."