"It will not do to say that we cannot help what is wrong, Ellen. What is the reason that you have bad feelings towards your aunt?"
"She don't like me, Maam."
"But how happens that, Ellen? I am afraid you don't like her."
"No, Maam, I don't to be sure; how can I?"
"Why cannot you, Ellen?"
"Oh, I can't, Maam! I wish I could. But, oh! Maam, I should have liked her I might have liked her, if she had been kind, but she never has. Even that first night I came she never kissed me nor said she was glad to see me."
"That was failing in kindness, certainly, but is she unkind to you, Ellen?"
"Oh, yes, Maam, indeed she is. She talks to me, and talks to me, in a way that almost drives me out of my wits; and to-day she even struck me! She has no right to do it," said Ellen, firing with passion; "she has no right to! and she has no right to talk as she does about Mamma. She did it to-day, and she has done it before. I can't bear it! and I can't bear her! I can't bear her!"
"Hush, hush," said Alice, drawing the excited child to her arms, for Ellen had risen from her seat "you must not talk so, Ellen; you are not feeling right now."
"No, Maam, I am not," said Ellen, coldly and sadly. She sat a moment, and then turning to her companion, put both arms round her neck, and hid her face on her shoulder again; and, without raising it, she gave her the history of the morning.