When
she replied that Ellen was one of her own servants, the bishop seemed, so
she thought or chose to think, quite pleased that so pretty a girl should
have found so exceptionally good a situation.
Ernest used to get up early during the holidays so that he might play the
piano before breakfast without disturbing his papa and mamma--or rather,
perhaps, without being disturbed by them. Ellen would generally be there
sweeping the drawing-room floor and dusting while he was playing, and the
boy, who was ready to make friends with most people, soon became very
fond of her. He was not as a general rule sensitive to the charms of the
fair sex, indeed he had hardly been thrown in with any women except his
Aunts Allaby, and his Aunt Alethea, his mother, his sister Charlotte and
Mrs Jay; sometimes also he had had to take off his hat to the Miss
Skinners, and had felt as if he should sink into the earth on doing so,
but his shyness had worn off with Ellen, and the pair had become fast
friends.
Perhaps it was well that Ernest was not at home for very long together,
but as yet his affection though hearty was quite Platonic. He was not
only innocent, but deplorably--I might even say guiltily--innocent.
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