a case as this," answered Ellen, blushing as
she spoke.

"No, love; my words did you injustice. But you appear to have found time
for ornamental work also, if this very pretty wreath be yours," said
Mrs. Hamilton, bending over her niece's frame, and praising the delicacy
of her flowers.

"Oh, I have time for any and everything now," exclaimed Ellen, in a tone
of animation, so very unusual, that not only her aunt but her young
companions looked at her with astonishment.

"Ellen, yon are becoming more and more incomprehensible," said Emmeline,
laughing. "If Edward do not come home soon, as I suspect this
extraordinary mood is occasioned by the anticipation of his arrival, I
am afraid your spirits will carry you half way over the Channel to meet
him. Mamma, take my advice, and keep a strict watch over the person of
your niece."

"You know, Ellen, you are as full of fun and mischief as I am, quiet and
demure as we once thought you," said Lady Emily.

"Is she? I am glad of it," said Mrs. Hamilton, playfully. "Do not look
so very much ashamed of your mirth, my dear Ellen, and bend over your
work as if you had been guilty of some extraordinary misdemeanour. You
know how pleased I always am to see you happy, Ellen," she added, in a
lower voice, as she laid her hand sportively on her niece's head, which
was bent down to conceal the confusion Emmeline's words had called
forth.

Some little time longer Mrs. Hamilton remained with the young party,
entering with her usual kindness into all their pleasures and pursuits,
and left them perhaps even happier than she had found them.

Ellen's change of manner had been noticed by the whole party assembled
at Oakwood; and by most of them attributed to the anticipation of the
long-absent Edward's return. That indefinable manner which had formerly
pervaded her whole conduct had disappeared. She no longer seemed to have
something weighing on her mind, which Mrs. Hamilton sometimes fancied to
have been the case. Cheerful, animated, at times even joyous, she
appeared a happier being than she had ever been before; and sincerely
her aunt and uncle, who really loved her as their child, rejoiced in the
change, though they knew not, guessed not the real cause. Ingratiating
herself with all, even the stern Duchess of Rothbury, who, with her now
only unmarried daughter, Lady Lucy, had accepted Mrs Hamilton's pressing
invitation to Oakwood, relaxed in her manner towards her; and Sir George
Wil