"Have you forgotten what I used so repeatedly to say to you, when you were a lazy little girl, Emmeline, and were ever ready to escape disagreeable tasks, by saying you were quite sure you never could succeed--Where there's a will there's a way?'" "Indeed, I have not forgotten it, dear mamma; it often comes across me now, when I am ready to despair; and so I shall just read it to Master Ned when he returns, as a lecture for not writing to me." "Nay, Emmeline, that would be demanding too much from our young sailor; there is moderation in everything, you know." "Not in me, mamma," answered Emmeline, laughing. "You know I am always in extremes, up in the skies one minute, and down, down on the lowest earth the next. I sometimes wish I was like Ellen, always unruffled, always calm and collected. You will go through the world better than I shall, my quiet cousin." "Shall I?" replied Ellen, faintly smiling. But Mrs. Hamilton could perceive that which the thoughtless Emmeline regarded not, a deep crimson staining apparently with pain the pale fair cheek of her niece, and she thought not with her daughter. "And how much longer does Ned intend being away from us?" demanded Emmeline, after a long pause. "He cannot give us any idea yet," answered her mother; "perhaps some time next year. They were to cruise off the shores of South America these autumnal months, and winter, Edward thinks, off Buenos Ayres. He is pleased at this, as he will see so very much more of the New World than he expected, when he left us.'" "What an entertaining companion he will be when he returns," exclaimed Emmeline. "Or rather ought to be, Emmeline," remarked Ellen, quietly. "Now, what an insinuation! Ellen, you are too bad to-night, and against your brother, of all persons in the world. It is just like the ill compliment you paid him on his gallantry in saving the Syren and all her crew--absolutely would not believe that your brother Edward and the young hero of my tale were one and the same person." "I can forgive her scepticism then," said Mrs. Hamilton, affectionately. "The extraordinary efforts you described were indeed almost beyond credence, when known to have been those of a lad but just seventeen; but I hope my Ellen is no longer a sceptic as to the future fame and honour of her brother," she added, kindly addressing her niece. "Oh, I dare not indulge in one half the bright visions, the fond hopes that will intrude themselves upon my mind for him," exclaimed Ellen, with involuntary energy. "Why, Ellen, are you sometimes a victim to the freaks of imagination as well as myself?" asked her cousin, laughing. "I have frequently compelled myself to seek active employment," answered Ellen, "lest those hopes should be indeed but fading visions, and my disappointment more painfully bitter."