"What is your objection, Ellie?"
"Why, because I can't! I couldn't do it, somehow. It would seem so strange. Must I, Alice? Why in the world are you glad, dear Alice?"
"It smooths my way for a plan I have had in my head; you will know by-and-by why I am glad, Ellie."
"Well, I am glad if you are glad," said Ellen, sighing; "I don't know why I was so sorry, but I couldn't help it. I suppose I shan't mind it after a while."
She sat for a few minutes, musing over the possibility or impossibility of ever forming her lips to the words "Uncle Abraham," "Uncle Van Brunt," or barely "uncle;" her soul rebelled against all three. "Yet, if he should think me unkind, then I must oh! rather fifty times over than that!" Looking up, she saw a change in Alice's countenance, and tenderly asked
"What is the matter, dear Alice? what are you thinking about?"
"I am thinking, Ellie, how I shall tell you something that will give you pain."
"Pain! you needn't be afraid of giving me pain," said Ellen, fondly, throwing her arms around her. "Tell me, dear Alice; is it something I have done that is wrong? what is it?"
Alice kissed her, and burst into tears.
"What is the matter; oh, dear Alice!" said Ellen, encircling Alice's head with both her arms, "oh, don't cry! do tell me what it is!"