The next day it happened that the young people were amusing themselves with talking in a room where John Humphreys, walking up and down, was amusing _himself_ with thinking. In the course of his walk, he began to find their amusement rather disturbing to his. The children were all grouped closely around Margaret Dunscombe, who was entertaining them with a long and very detailed account of a wedding and great party at Randolph, which she had had the happiness of attending. Eagerly fighting her battles over again, and pleased with the rapt attention of her hearers, the speaker forgot herself, and raised her voice much more than she meant to do. As every turn of his walk brought John near, there came to his ears sufficient bits and scraps of Margaret's story to give him a very fair sample of the whole; and he was sorry to see Ellen among the rest, and as the rest, hanging upon her lips and drinking in what seemed to him to be very poor nonsense. "Her gown was all blue satin, trimmed here — and so — you know, with the most exquisite lace, as deep as that — and on the shoulders and here, you know, it was looped up with the most lovely bunches of" — here John lost the sense. When he came near again, she had got upon a different topic — " 'Miss Simmons,' says I, 'what did you do that for?' 'Why,' says she, 'how could I help it? I saw Mr. Payne coming, and I thought I'd get behind you, and so' " —. The next time the speaker was saying with great animation, "And lo and behold, when I was in the midst of all my pleasure, up comes a little gentleman of about his dimensions —." He had not taken many turns, when he saw that Margaret's nonsense was branching out right and left into worse than nonsense. "Ellen!" said he, suddenly — "I want you in the library." "My conscience!" said Margaret, as he left the room — "King John the second, and no less." "Don't go on till I come back," said Ellen; "I won't be three minutes; just wait for me." She found John seated at one of the tables in the library, sharpening a pencil. "Ellen," said he, in his usual manner — "I want you to do something for me." She waited eagerly to hear what; but, instead of telling her, he took a piece of drawing-paper, and began to sketch something. Ellen stood by, wondering and impatient to the last degree; not caring, however, to show her impatience, though her very feet were twitching to run back to her companions. "Ellen," said John, as he finished the old stump of a tree, with one branch left on it, and a little bit of ground at the bottom, "did you ever try your hand at drawing?" "No," said Ellen. "Then sit down here," said he, rising from his chair, "and let me see what you can make of that." "But I don't know how," said Ellen. "I will teach you. There is a piece of paper, and this pencil is sharp enough. Is that chair too low for you?"