"I can tell you," said Mrs. Chauncey, smiling; "he is one of my best friends, too, Ellen; it is my brother, Mr. George Marshman."
How Ellen's face crimsoned! Mr. Marshman asked how she knew.
"It was then he came up the river, you know, Sir; and don't you remember his speaking of a little girl on board the boat, who was travelling with strangers, and whom he endeavoured to befriend? I had forgotten it entirely till a minute or two ago."
"Miss Margaret Dunscombe!" cried George Walsh, "what kind of a person was that you said Ellen was so fond of when you came up the river?"
"I don't know, nor care," said Margaret. "Somebody she picked up somewhere."
"It was Mr. George Marshman!"
"It wasn't."
"Uncle George!" exclaimed Ellen Chauncey, running up to the group her cousin had quitted; "my uncle George? Do you know uncle George, Ellen?"
"Very much I mean yes," said Ellen.
Ellen Chauncey was delighted. So was Ellen Montgomery. It seemed to bring the whole family nearer to her, and they felt it, too. Mrs. Marshman kissed her when she heard it, and said she remembered very well her son's speaking of her, and was very glad to find who it was. And now, Ellen thought, she would surely see him again some time.