Margaret had a reply at her tongue's end, but she had also an uneasy feeling that there were eyes not far off too keen of sight to be baffled; she kept silence till the group dispersed, and she had an opportunity of whispering in Marianne's ear that "_that_ was the very most disagreeable man she had ever seen in her life." "What a singular fancy you have taken to this little pet of Alice's, Mr. John," said Mrs. Marshman's youngest daughter. "You quite surprise me." "Did you think me a misanthrope, Miss Sophia?" "Oh no, not at all; but I always had a notion you would not be easily pleased in the choice of favourites." "_Easily!_ When a simple, intelligent child of twelve or thirteen is a common character, then I will allow that I am easily pleased." "Twelve or thirteen!" said Miss Sophia; "what are you thinking about? Alice says she is only ten or eleven." "In years, perhaps." "How gravely you take me up!" said the young lady, laughing. "My dear Mr. John, 'in years perhaps,' you may call yourself twenty, but in everything else you might much better pass for thirty or forty." As they were called to dinner, Alice and Ellen Chauncey came back; the former looking a little serious, the latter crying, and wishing aloud that all the moroccos had been in the fire. They had not been able to find Ellen. Neither was she in the drawing-room when they returned to it after dinner; and a second search was made in vain. John went to the library, which was separate from the other rooms, thinking she might have chosen that for a hiding-place. She was not there; but the pleasant light of the room, where only the fire was burning, invited a stay. He sat down in the deep window, and was musingly looking out into the moonlight, when the door softly opened, and Ellen came in. She stole in noiselessly, so that he did not hear her, and _she_ thought the room empty; till in passing slowly down toward the fire, she came upon him in the window. Her start first let him know she was there; she would have run, but one of her hands was caught, and she could not get it away. "Running away from your brother, Ellie!" said he kindly. "What is the matter?" Ellen shrunk from meeting his eye, and was silent. "I know all, Ellie," said he, still very kindly; "I have seen all; why do you shun me?" Ellen said nothing; the big tears began to run down her face and frock. "You are taking this matter too hardly, dear Ellen," he said, drawing her close to him; "you did wrong, but you have done all you could to repair the wrong; neither man nor woman can do more than that." But though encouraged by his manner, the tears flowed faster than ever. "Where have you been? Alice was looking for you, and little Ellen Chauncey was in great trouble. I don't know what dreadful thing she thought you had done with yourself. Come! lift up your head and let me see you smile again." Ellen lifted her head, but could not her eyes, though she tried to smile.