Sansoucy had resumed his reverie, and was fast forgetting
the existence of Mr. Heartsease, and, indeed, of
all the world besides, but one personage—Aurelia—when
a second step was heard ascending the stairs, and a
modest tap at the door, requested permission to enter.

Sansoucy sighed, and entered a silent protest against
the inimical fate which thus took pleasure in breaking
the chain of his bright thoughts: but still true to his
patient and yielding temper, he said, quietly, “Come in.”

The door opened, and little Ellie entered, with a modest

[figure description] Page 543.[end figure description]

look in her mild eyes, and holding back, as if afraid of
intruding herself upon the attention of her friend, to the
prejudice of his occupations.

But Mr. Sansoucy no sooner caught sight of Ellie,
than his expression of patient submission disappeared;
and rising, with a smile of pleasure, he took the hand of
the child, and made her sit down by him.

“Well, Ellie,” he said; “pray, how are you, to-day?”

“I am very well, thank you, sir,” said the child, in her
soft, gentle voice.

“And Joe?”

“Oh, uncle is well, sir, and I never can thank you
for—”

“Well, never do. I like you, and my friend, Joe.”

“Uncle is very dear to me, sir.”

“That is because you are an affectionate and warmhearted
little creature, Ellie; it is a pleasure to do you
the least kindness, your gratitude is such a treasure.”

“Oh, sir!” said Ellie, with a glad look in her eyes:
“indeed, you make me very happy, and I am very
grateful.”

“But you have more friends to be grateful to than me,
Ellie,” replied Sansoucy, with a bright smile.

“More friends, sir?”

“Yes—the lady—”

“Oh, you know then, sir; I was so sorry I could not
tell you.”

“Why did you not?”

“She told me not to, sir—and you know she had the
right to ask much more than that.”

[figure description] Page 544.[end figure description]

“Yes, indeed—and I, too, had the right to ask, if not
you, her for—”

And Sansoucy, with the gayety of a boy, looked at
Ellie, and smiled.

“To ask her, sir—?”

But Mr. Sansoucy did not make a direct reply to the
child's words or looks.

“Ellie,” he said, “would you like to see me married?”

“Married, sir?”

“Yes.”

“Would it make you happier, sir?”

“Yes, I think so—I think it will.”

“Oh, then, sir, I should love to see you married!”

This reply delighted Mr. Sansoucy beyond measure,
and he said:

“Suppose it was Miss Aurelia?”

“Is it, sir?”

“Yes,” said Sansoucy.

“Oh, I'm so glad, sir!” said Ellie, “she is so kind and
sweet.

Mr. Sansoucy caressed the brown hair of the child,
gently, with his hand, and said, with a look of radiant
happiness:

“Your pleasure, Ellie, makes my own greater. Yes,
Aurelia is more kind and sweet than any one I know in
all the world, and I shall be very happy if God lets me
be. I learned to put in that proviso from yourself, my
child—and that was a happy day when I met you—met
you, and talked with you, to learn from you the duties I
am called to, as a Christian gentleman—and some day

[figure description] Page 545.[end figure description]

I shall be as much. I know, in your prayers, you bless
and pray for me, and that is more than all I could do for
you, Ellie.”

“Oh, sir! you saved my life! indeed, indeed! I pray
always for you! Oh, indeed, I never can do anything for
you—but that!”

And greatly affected by the kind words of Mr. Sansoucy,
Ellie's eyes filled with moisture, making them swim
in tender light, as she gazed timidly upon his face.

“What a simple, grateful heart you have, Ellie,” he
said, “I know your grateful feelings, but I do not deserve
them. Now tell me all about everything.”

“That is why I came, sir.”

“For what, Ellie?”

“I'm afraid Lucia is sick, sir, and requires the doctor.”

“Lucia?”

“The little orphan-girl, sir, whose father died early in
the winter.”

“Oh, I have heard you speak of her—and I saw her
once, I think.”

“Yes, sir.”

“She is beautiful—with long, dark hair—fair skin, and
black eyes—is she not?”

“Yes, sir—she is lovely, and so good! Oh, sir, she is
so good, and my heart bleeds for her.”

“How, Ellie!”

“She has suffered so much, sir. I tried to do all that
I could, and Sam and all: but she has got sick, and I
was made uneasy about her last night and this morning—”

[figure description] Page 546.[end figure description]

“Is she much sick?”

“I am afraid so, sir: her face is so thin and pale—
oh! so thin and pale, and sweet. When she smiles, she
looks like a spirit, or what I think one is like!”

“Ah—so bad?”

“I think her mind has been wandering to-day, sir—
last night, when she kissed me, too, she said, `Ellie, do
you think the violets have come up'—”

“Violets?”

“Yes, sir—I think she and Sam were talking about
gathering violets some time ago, when the spring came.”

“Poor child!”

“I told her,” continued Ellie, “that they would soon be
up: and then she asked me if any violets grew in heaven—
oh, sir! I feel so badly about Lucia—for I love her
dearly—!”

“Come, then, Ellie, we will go for the doctor. I will
send Doctor Fossyl to Lucia, at once, though he would
take no pay for his attendance on your uncle. Come, my
child—poor Lucia!—come, we will go.”

And hastily wrapping himself up, Mr. Sansoucy, yielding
to his pity, descended the stairs, and followed by
Ellie, took his way toward the office of Doctor Fossyl.

The doctor bent his head, as he chewed, vigorously, an
old, dry crust, which, with a ham bone, served him for
dinner; and then asking Ellie about Lucia's condition,
fully, got into his carriage, which waited, and drove off.

Sansoucy followed him, with the child, and forgetting
his own dinner, sought, with her, the abode of Lucia.

The doctor met them on the threshold, and said:

p506-558

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“She is not here.”

As he spoke, Mr. Sansoucy felt a weight upon his arm,
and looking down, saw that Ellie was pale and faint.