"But I'm wae to see you," said the kind old woman, stooping down and stroking the head that again Ellen had bowed on her knees; "will ye no tell me what vexes ye? Ye suld be as blithe as a bird the lang day."
"I can't, Mrs. Allen, while I am away from my friends."
"Friends! and wha has mair frinds than yoursel,' Miss Ellen, or better frinds? father and mother and a'; where wad ye find thae that will love you mair?"
"Ah , but I haven't my brother!" sobbed Ellen.
"Your brither, Miss Ellen? An' wa's he?"
"He's everything, Mrs. Allen! he's everything! I shall never be happy without him! never! never!"
"Hush, dear Miss Ellen! for the love of a' that's gude; dinna talk that gate, and dinna greet sae! your father wad be sair vexed to hear ye or to see ye."
"I cannot help it," said Ellen; "it is true."
"It may be sae; but dear Miss Ellen, dinna let it come to your father's ken; ye're his very heart's idol; he disna merit ought but gude frae ye."
"I know it, Mrs. Allen," said Ellen, weeping, "and so I do love him better than anybody in the world, except two. But oh! I want my brother; I don't know how to be happy or good either without him. I want him all the while."