Ellen could do nothing wrong because she did what she herself would do when she was grown.

She never questioned Ellen for her reasons.
Mrs.Zelotes kept looking at the two, with pride in Ellen and disapproval of her caresses of the child.

"Seems to me you might speak to your own folks as well as to have no eyes for anybody but that child," she said, finally.
"Why, grandma, I spoke to you just a little while ago," returned Ellen.

"You know I saw you just a few minutes before I went down-town." Ellen straightened the child on her knees, and began to try to twist her soft, straight flaxen locks into curls.

Andrew lounged in from the kitchen and sat down and regarded Ellen fondly.
The girl's cheeks were a splendid color from her walk in the cold wind, her hair around her temples caught the light from the window, and seemed to wreathe her head with a yellow flame.