hen, in the imperious necessity of blaming
some one, Mrs. Kenton added: "You know how it is with your father. He is
always so precipitate; and when he heard what you said, last night, it
cut him to the heart. He felt as if he were dragging you away, and this
morning he could hardly wait to get through his breakfast before he
rushed down to the steamship office. But now it's all right again, and
if you want to go, we'll go, and your father will only be too glad."

"I don't want father to go against his will. You said he never wanted to
go to Europe." The girl had turned her face upon her mother again; and
fixed her with her tearful, accusing eyes.

"The doctors say he ought to go. He needs the change, and I think we
should all be the better far getting away."

"I shall not," said Ellen. "But if I don't--"

"Yes," said her mother, soothingly.

"You know that nothing has changed. He hasn't changed and I haven't. If
he was bad, he's as bad as ever, and I'm just as silly. Oh, it's like a
drunkard! I suppose they know it's killing them, but they can't give it
up! Don't you think it's very strange, momma? I don't see why I should
be so. It seems as if I had no character at all, and I despise myself
so! Do you believe I shall ever get over it? Sometimes I think the best
thing for me would be to go into an asylum."

"Oh yes, dear; you'll get over it, and forget it all. As soon as you see
others--other scenes--and get interested--"

"And you don't you don't think I'd better let him come, and--"

"Ellen!"

Ellen began to sob again, and toss her head upon the pillow. "What shall
I do? What shall I do?" she wailed. "He hasn't ever done anything bad to
me, and if I can overlook his--his flirting--with that horrid thing,
I don't know what the rest of you have got to say. And he says he can
explain everything. Why shouldn't I give him the chance, momma? I do
think it is acting very cruel not to let him even say a word."

"You can see him if you wish, Ellen," said her mother, gravely. "Your
father and I have always said that. And perhaps it would be the best
thing, after all."

"Oh, you say that because you think that if I did see him, I should be
so disgusted with him that I'd never want to speak to him again. But
what if I shouldn't?"

"Then we should wish you to do whatever you thought was for your
happiness, Ellen. We can't believe it would be for your good; but if it
would be for your happiness, we are willing. Or, if