the better for the society of other little girls of your own age.” And so her boxes were packed and a chaise came to the door, and Ella drove away.
Ella remained at school for two whole years, and during all that time she did not see her home. Then one day her father came with the carriage to bring her back again.
When they had left the town well behind, he took Ella’s little hand in his big one and said:
“You must have been very lonely in the house after your mother died. Were you not lonely, child?”
“Yes, indeed,” answered Ella, and the tears came into her eyes when she thought of the dear mother whom she would never see again in this world. “But you see,” she went on, “I have been thinking over things while I have been at school, and I have made up my mind to try not to be lonely any more. There are so many things that mother used to do which I can do instead. One of these days I shall have to take her place, so I may as well begin now, mayn’t I?”
“Of course,” said her father, “and you are a very good little girl to think of it; but there has been a change while you have been away, and I want to tell you about it.”
“A change?” cried Ella, opening her eyes wide.
“Yes,” the Baron went on, speaking rather fast, as though he had to say something unpleasant and wanted to get it over. “Somebody has come to live with us while you have been away—somebody who will, I hope, take a mother’s place to you. A lady has—ahem—done