she drew her little stool to the open window, and sat still, without desiring more enjoyment than the fresh air and the perfect quiet. About an hour had so elapsed, and Ellen was beginning to raise her languid head, when a step, only too well known, was heard on the stairs, and the door, rudely thrown open, announced the approach of Mrs. Dalton. "Just as I thought," said she, in an angry tone, "a mere idle excuse, and Ellen is the idlest child in the world—she only wanted to waste her time in doing nothing; but, for once, you will find yourself mistaken—you will have the goodness, young lady, to come down stairs at once. I will see if I cannot find a cure for you headache." Ellen rose from her seat with a bewildered air, and, accustomed to implicit obedience, prepared, though with trembling steps, to follow, turning pale as death. Eda had hitherto stood by in silence. Aware of how little good her interference could effect, she always tried to avoid any ineffectual opposition that might afterwards be turned against herself; but here she could
