dizzy. She could not stir at first, and, in spite of her
utmost efforts, she _could_ not command back one or two rebel
tears that forced their way; she lifted her hand to her face
to remove them as quietly as possible. "What is all this
about, my little girl?" said a strange voice at her side.
Ellen started, and turned her face, with the tears but half
wiped away, towards the speaker. It was an old gentleman — an
odd old gentleman, too, she thought — one she certainly would
have been rather shy of, if she had seen him under other
circumstances. But though his face was odd, it looked kindly
upon her, and it was a kind tone of voice in which his
question had been put; so he seemed to her like a friend.
"What is all this?" repeated the old gentleman. Ellen began to
tell what it was, but the pride which had forbidden her to
weep before strangers, gave way at one touch of sympathy, and
she poured out tears much faster than words, as she related
her story, so that it was some little time before the old
gentleman could get a clear notion of her case. He waited very
patiently till she had finished; but then he set himself in
good earnest about righting the wrong. "Hallo! you, Sir!" he
shouted, in a voice that made everybody look round; "you
merino man! come and show your goods. Why aren't you at your
post, Sir?" — as Mr. Saunders came up, with an altered
countenance — "here's a young lady you've left standing
unattended to, I don't know how long; are these your manners?"

"The young lady did not wish anything, I believe, Sir,"
returned Mr. Saunders, softly.

"You know better, you scoundrel!" retorted the old gentleman,