"Shall you be here?"
"Certainly, where else should I be? What time must you set out?"
"I need not till afternoon, but how early can I see you?"
"As early as you please. Oh, spend all the time with me you can, John!"
So it was arranged.
"And now, Ellie, you must go downstairs and present me to Mr.
Lindsay."
"To my father!"
For a moment Ellen's face was a compound of expressions. She instantly acquiesced, however, and went down with her brother, her heart, it must be confessed, going very pit-a-pat indeed. She took him into the library, which was not this evening thrown open to company; and sent a servant for Mr. Lindsay. While waiting for his coming, Ellen felt as if she had not the fair use of her senses. Was that John Humphreys quietly walking up and down the library! Mr. Lindsay's library! and was she about to introduce her brother to the person who had forbidden her to mention his name? There was something, however, in Mr. John's figure and air, in his utter coolness, that insensibly restored her spirits. Triumphant confidence in him overcame the fear of Mr. Lindsay; and when he appeared, Ellen, with tolerable composure, met him, her hand upon John's arm, and said, "Father, this is Mr. Humphreys," my brother she dared not add.
"I hope Mr. Lindsay will pardon my giving him this trouble," said the latter; "we have one thing in common which should forbid our being strangers to each other. I, at least, was unwilling to leave Scotland without making myself known to Mr. Lindsay."
Mr. Lindsay most devoutly wished the "thing in common" had been anything else. He bowed, and was "happy to have the pleasure," but evidently neither pleased nor happy. Ellen could see that.