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"Anybody out of the house, I meant," said Lady Keith.
"Speak, Ellen, and clear yourself," said Mr. Lindsay.
"I like some people," said Ellen, smiling; "I don't think I like a great many people very much."
"But you don't like young people," said Lady Keith; "that is what I complain of, and it's unnatural. Now there's the other day, when you went to ride with Miss Gordon and her brother, and Miss MacPherson and her brother, I heard you say you were not sorry to get home. Now where will you find pleasanter young people?"
"Why don't you like them, Ellen?" said Mrs. Lindsay.
"I do like them, ma'am, tolerably."
"What does 'tolerably' mean?"
"I should have liked my ride better the other day," said Ellen, "if they had talked about sensible things."
"Nonsense!" said Lady Keith. "Society cannot be made up of M. Mullers."
"What did they talk about, Ellen?" said Mr. Lindsay, who seemed amused.
"About partners in dancing, at least the ladies did, and dresses, and different gentlemen, and what this one said and the other one said; it wasn't very amusing to me."
Mr. Lindsay laughed. "And the gentlemen, Ellen, how did you like them?"
"I didn't like them particularly, sir."
"What have you against them, Ellen?"
"I don't wish to say anything against them, Aunt Keith."
"Come, come – speak out."
"I didn't like their talking, sir, any better than the ladies'; and besides that, I don't think they were very polite."
"Why not?" said Mr. Lindsay, highly amused.
"I don't think it was very polite," said Ellen, "for them to sit still on their horses when I went out, and let Brocklesby help me to mount. They took me up at M. Muller's, you know, sir; M. Muller had been obliged to go out and leave me."
Mr. Lindsay threw a glance at his sister which she rather resented.
"And pray what do you expect, Ellen?" said she. "You are a mere child; do you think you ought to be treated as a woman?"
"I don't wish to be treated as anything but a child, Aunt Keith."
But Ellen remembered well one day at home when John had been before the door on horseback, and she had run out to give him a message, his instantly dismounting to hear it. "And I was more a child then," she thought, "and he wasn't a stranger."
"Whom do you like, Ellen?" inquired Mr. Lindsay, who looked extremely satisfied with the result of the examination.
"I like M. Muller, sir."
"Nobody else?"
"Mrs. Allen."
"There!" exclaimed Lady Keith.
"Have you come from her room just now?"
"Yes, sir."
"What's your fancy for going there?"
"I like to hear her talk, sir, and to read to her; it gives her a great deal of pleasure; and I like to talk to her."
"What do you talk about?"
"She talks to me about my mother – "
"And you?"
"I like to talk to her about old times," said Ellen, changing colour.
"Profitable conversation!" said Mrs. Lindsay.
"You will not go to her room any more, Ellen," said Mr. Lindsay.
In great dismay at what Mrs. Allen would think, Ellen began a remonstrance. But only one word was uttered; Mr. Lindsay's hand was upon her lips. He next took the book she still held.
"Is this what you have been reading to her?"
Ellen bowed in answer.
"Who wrote all this?"
Before she could speak he had turned to the front leaf and read, "To my little sister." He quietly put the book in his pocket; and Ellen as quietly left the room.
"I am glad you have said that," said Lady Keith. "You are quick enough when you see anything for yourself, but you never will believe other people."
"There is nothing wrong here," said Mr. Lindsay, "only I will not have her going back to those old recollections she is so fond of. I wish I could make her drink Lethe!"
"What is the book?" said Mrs. Lindsay.
"I hardly know," said he, turning it over, "except it is from that person that seems to have obtained such an ascendency over her – it is full of his notes – it is a religious work."
"She reads a great deal too much of that sort of thing," said Mrs. Lindsay. "I wish you would contrive to put a stop to it. You can do it better than any one else; she is very fond of you."
That was not a good argument. Mr. Lindsay was silent; his thoughts went back to the conversation held that evening in Ellen's room, and to certain other things; and perhaps he was thinking that if religion had much to do with making her what she was, it was a tree that bore good fruits.
"I think," said Lady Keith, "that is one reason why she takes so little to the young people she sees. I have seen her sit perfectly grave when they were all laughing and talking around her – it really looks singular – I don't like it – I presume she would have thought it wicked to laugh with them. And the other night, I missed her from the younger part of the company, where she should have been, and there she was in the other room with M. Muller and somebody else, gravely listening to their conversation!"
"Speak, Ellen, and clear yourself," said Mr. Lindsay.
"I like some people," said Ellen, smiling; "I don't think I like a great many people very much."
"But you don't like young people," said Lady Keith; "that is what I complain of, and it's unnatural. Now there's the other day, when you went to ride with Miss Gordon and her brother, and Miss MacPherson and her brother, I heard you say you were not sorry to get home. Now where will you find pleasanter young people?"
"Why don't you like them, Ellen?" said Mrs. Lindsay.
"I do like them, ma'am, tolerably."
"What does 'tolerably' mean?"
"I should have liked my ride better the other day," said Ellen, "if they had talked about sensible things."
"Nonsense!" said Lady Keith. "Society cannot be made up of M. Mullers."
"What did they talk about, Ellen?" said Mr. Lindsay, who seemed amused.
"About partners in dancing, at least the ladies did, and dresses, and different gentlemen, and what this one said and the other one said; it wasn't very amusing to me."
Mr. Lindsay laughed. "And the gentlemen, Ellen, how did you like them?"
"I didn't like them particularly, sir."
"What have you against them, Ellen?"
"I don't wish to say anything against them, Aunt Keith."
"Come, come – speak out."
"I didn't like their talking, sir, any better than the ladies'; and besides that, I don't think they were very polite."
"Why not?" said Mr. Lindsay, highly amused.
"I don't think it was very polite," said Ellen, "for them to sit still on their horses when I went out, and let Brocklesby help me to mount. They took me up at M. Muller's, you know, sir; M. Muller had been obliged to go out and leave me."
Mr. Lindsay threw a glance at his sister which she rather resented.
"And pray what do you expect, Ellen?" said she. "You are a mere child; do you think you ought to be treated as a woman?"
"I don't wish to be treated as anything but a child, Aunt Keith."
But Ellen remembered well one day at home when John had been before the door on horseback, and she had run out to give him a message, his instantly dismounting to hear it. "And I was more a child then," she thought, "and he wasn't a stranger."
"Whom do you like, Ellen?" inquired Mr. Lindsay, who looked extremely satisfied with the result of the examination.
"I like M. Muller, sir."
"Nobody else?"
"Mrs. Allen."
"There!" exclaimed Lady Keith.
"Have you come from her room just now?"
"Yes, sir."
"What's your fancy for going there?"
"I like to hear her talk, sir, and to read to her; it gives her a great deal of pleasure; and I like to talk to her."
"What do you talk about?"
"She talks to me about my mother – "
"And you?"
"I like to talk to her about old times," said Ellen, changing colour.
"Profitable conversation!" said Mrs. Lindsay.
"You will not go to her room any more, Ellen," said Mr. Lindsay.
In great dismay at what Mrs. Allen would think, Ellen began a remonstrance. But only one word was uttered; Mr. Lindsay's hand was upon her lips. He next took the book she still held.
"Is this what you have been reading to her?"
Ellen bowed in answer.
"Who wrote all this?"
Before she could speak he had turned to the front leaf and read, "To my little sister." He quietly put the book in his pocket; and Ellen as quietly left the room.
"I am glad you have said that," said Lady Keith. "You are quick enough when you see anything for yourself, but you never will believe other people."
"There is nothing wrong here," said Mr. Lindsay, "only I will not have her going back to those old recollections she is so fond of. I wish I could make her drink Lethe!"
"What is the book?" said Mrs. Lindsay.
"I hardly know," said he, turning it over, "except it is from that person that seems to have obtained such an ascendency over her – it is full of his notes – it is a religious work."
"She reads a great deal too much of that sort of thing," said Mrs. Lindsay. "I wish you would contrive to put a stop to it. You can do it better than any one else; she is very fond of you."
That was not a good argument. Mr. Lindsay was silent; his thoughts went back to the conversation held that evening in Ellen's room, and to certain other things; and perhaps he was thinking that if religion had much to do with making her what she was, it was a tree that bore good fruits.
"I think," said Lady Keith, "that is one reason why she takes so little to the young people she sees. I have seen her sit perfectly grave when they were all laughing and talking around her – it really looks singular – I don't like it – I presume she would have thought it wicked to laugh with them. And the other night, I missed her from the younger part of the company, where she should have been, and there she was in the other room with M. Muller and somebody else, gravely listening to their conversation!"
Другие электронные книги автора Susan Warner
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