"Neither will I, daughter; but what shall I do to make you forget these people?"
"Nothing, Sir; I cannot forget them; I shouldn't deserve to have you love me a bit if I could. Let me love them, and do not be angry with me for it."
"But I am not satisfied to have your body here, and your heart somewhere else."
I must have a poor little kind of heart," said Ellen, smiling amidst her tears, "if I had room in it for only one person."
"Ellen," said Mr. Lindsay, inquisitively, "did you insinuate a falsehood there?"
"No, Sir."
"There is honesty in those eyes," said he, "if there is honesty anywhere in the world. I am satisfied, that is, half satisfied. Now lie there, my little daughter, and rest," said he, laying her upon the sofa; "you look as if you needed it."
"I don't need anything now," said Ellen, as she laid her cheek upon the grateful pillow, "except one thing if grandmother would only forgive me too."
"You must try not to offend your grandmother, Ellen, for she does not very readily forgive; but I think we can arrange this matter. Go you to sleep."
"I wonder," said Ellen, smiling as she closed her eyes, "why everybody calls me 'little;' I don't think I am very little. Everybody says 'little.' "