"Oh, Mamma, that one won't do," said Ellen, anxiously; "you know the desk will be knocking about in a trunk, and the ink would run out, and spoil every thing. It should be one of those that shut tight. I don't see the right kind here."
The shopman brought one.
"There, Mamma do you see?" said Ellen. "It shuts with a spring, and nothing can possibly come out. Do you see, Mamma. You can turn it topsy-turvy."
"I see you are quite right, daughter; it seems I should get on very ill without you to advise me. Fill the inkstand, if you please."
"Mamma, what shall I do when my ink is gone? that inkstand will hold but a little, you know."
"Your aunt will supply you, of course, my dear, when you are out."
"I'd rather take some of my own, by half," said Ellen.
"You could not carry a bottle of ink in your desk without great danger to every thing else in it. It would not do to venture."
"We have excellent ink-powder," said the shopman, "in small packages, which can be very conveniently carried about. You see, Maam, there is a compartment in the desk for such things; and the ink is very easily made at any time."
"Oh, that will do nicely," said Ellen, "that is just the thing."