The watch was too large for a chatelaine, but she had looped the heavy chain across her bosom, and pinned it with the brooch which Abby Atkins had given her, so it hung suspended.

Cynthia riveted her eyes helplessly upon that as she talked.
"I hope you are having a pleasant vacation," said she, as she looked at the watch, and all at once Ellen knew.
Ellen replied that she was having a very pleasant vacation, then she plunged at once into the subject of her call, though with inward trembling.
"Miss Lennox," said she--and she followed the lines of a little speech which she had been rehearsing to herself all the way there--"I am very grateful to you for what you propose doing for me.
It will make a difference to me during my whole life.

I cannot begin to tell you how grateful I am." "I am very grateful to be allowed to do it," replied Cynthia, with her unfailing refrain of gentle politeness, but a kindly glance was in her eyes.

Something in the girl's tone touched her.

It was exceedingly earnest, with the simple earnestness of childhood.
Moreover, Ellen was regarding her with great, steadfast, serious eyes, like a baby's who shrinks and yet will have her will of information.
"I wanted to say," Ellen continued--and her voice became insensibly hushed, and she cast a glance around at the house and the leafy grounds, as if to be sure that no one was within hearing--"that I should never under any circumstances have said anything regarding what happened so long ago.