It was as she and Mr. Howard had both expected. Ellen was no longer to remain at Oakwood, but to be placed under the care of a maiden lady, living in Yorkshire, a relation of Mr. Hamilton, and one who had occasionally visited Oakwood, and was, therefore, well known to Mrs. Hamilton, and to Ellis too, and regarded with such dislike by the latter, as to make her actually venture to entreat her mistress not to send Miss Ellen to her; she was sure it would break her heart. Now Miss Seldon was one of the worthiest women that ever breathed--honest, straightforward, truth-speaking literally to a fault, but as hard as she was true. Whether she ever had any feelings or not, Mrs. Hamilton, with all her penetration, never could discover; but the good she did was immense in practical benevolence, though the quick sympathy, the kindly word, the indulgent thought, seemed utterly unknown. She had no pity for faults or failings, always declaring forbearance and love were all folly; "if a branch were in the slightest degree decayed, cut it off; if the blight extend to the root, destroy it," she was fond of saying. As for youthful follies or errors, she had no patience with them, for never having been, or rather felt young herself, she could not understand the age in others. Ellis had not discrimination enough to discern the good which lay under this very disagreeable exterior; Mrs. Hamilton had; and suffering as she knew a residence with her must be to Ellen, if indeed she were really the character she had seemed in childhood--though the last few months had so contradicted it--she felt her husband had decided wisely, spite of the misery which still even the very thought of sending her orphan niece so completely from her, was to herself. Mr. Hamilton's letter read harshly, but his wife knew his high, almost stern principles; he had not seen Ellen's evident anguish; he could only judge from the relation which had been sent him, and all which that told was indeed against her. Of course he said, if she had confessed, and her confession in any degree, pleaded for her, his wife would use her own judgment as to the period of her banishment; but he could not imagine any cause for her conduct sufficiently excusing, as to demand the avoidance of his sentence altogether. Miss Seldon's last visit to Oakwood was sufficiently well remembered by the young Hamiltons (though, it was before their cousins had arrived from India), for them all--even Percy and Caroline, the most indignant against Ellen--to think of their father's sentence with the deepest regret, and with almost dread for its effect on Ellen. "If she did but know her, she must speak," was Emmeline's exclamation. "I did not feel quite sure that I was my own happy self, all the time she was with us." "The atmosphere was frozen twenty degrees below zero in all the rooms she frequented, though it was otherwise a hot summer," rejoined Percy; "and in Yorkshire--"