Away scudded the delighted Kate; and after having lamented her
gallant grey, and admired the Trosachs, came up too-tooing through
her hand with all her might, but found poor Ellen, very unlike a
monument of Grecian art, absolutely crying, and Allan Bane using his
best English and kindest tones to console her.

"Miladi l'a stupefaite--la pauvre petite!" began Josephine; and Kate
in consternation asking what was the matter, and Josephine
encouraging her, it was all sobbed out. She did not like to be
called Ellen--and she thought it unkind to send her into banishment--
and she had fancied she was to get astride on her hoop, which she
justly thought highly improper--and above all, she could not bear to
say 'Father'--because -

"I never thought you would mind that," said Kate, rather abashed. "I
never did; and I never saw my papa or mamma either."

"No--so you didn't care."

"Well then," said Kate gravely, "we won't play at that. Let's have
'Marmion' instead; and I'll be killed."

"But I don't like you to be killed."

"It is only in play."

"Please--please, let us have a nice play!"

"Well, what do you call a nice play?"