"Perhaps I shall try you in two or three things, Ellie."
"Will you! in what? Oh, it would make me so happy so much happier if I could be doing something to please you. I wish I was at home with you again!"
"I will bring that about, Ellie, by-and-by, if you make your words good."
"I shall be happy then," said Ellen, her old confidence standing stronger than ever, "because I know you will if you say so; though how you will manage I cannot conceive. My father, and grandmother, and aunt cannot bear to hear me speak of America; I believe they would be glad if there wasn't such a place in the world. They would not even let me think of it if they could help it; I never dare mention your name, or say a word about old times. They are afraid of my loving anybody, I believe. They want to have me all to themselves."
"What will they say to you then, Ellen, if you leave them to give yourself to me?"
"I cannot help it," replied Ellen; "they must say what they please;" and with abundance of energy, and not a few tears, she went on: "I love them, but I have given myself to you a great while ago; long before I was his daughter, you called me your little sister I can't unto that, John, and I don't want to it doesn't make a bit of difference that we were not born so!"
John suddenly rose, and began to walk up and down the room. Ellen soon came to his side, and leaning upon his arm as she had been used to do in past times, walked up and down with him, at first silently.
"What is it you wanted me to do, John?" she said, gently, at length; "you said 'two or three things.' "
"One is that you keep up a regular and full correspondence with me."
"I am very glad that you will let me do that," said Ellen; "that is exactly what I should like, but "