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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/18689-8.txt b/18689-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c9ce2a7 --- /dev/null +++ b/18689-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,33133 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Wide, Wide World, by Elizabeth Wetherell + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Wide, Wide World + + +Author: Elizabeth Wetherell + + + +Release Date: June 26, 2006 [eBook #18689] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD*** + + +Susan Warner (1849-1885), The Wide Wide World (1850), +Tauchnitz edition 1854 + + +Produced by Daniel FROMONT + + +_The Wide, Wide World_ as seen by _The North American Review_, January +1853 +'
Miss Warner
makes her young girl passionate, though +amiable, in her temper; fond of admiration, although withheld +by innate delicacy from seeking it unduly. She places her in +circumstances of peculiar trial to her peculiar traits, and +brings her, by careful gradations, to the state of self- +governed and stable virtue which fits woman for her great +office in the world; a fitness which would be impaired by the +sacrifice of a single grace, or the loss of one sentiment of +tenderness. To build such a character on any basis other than +a religious one, would have been to fix a palace upon the +shifting sands . . . Ellen and Fleda are reared, by their +truly feminine and natural experiences, into any thing but +"strong-minded women," at least if we accept Mr. Dickens's +notion of that dreadful order. They are both of velvet +softness; of delicate, downcast beauty; of flitting but +abundant smiles, and of even too many and ready tears
They +live in the affections, as the true woman must; yet they +cultivate and prize the understanding, and feel it to be the +guardian of goodness, as all wise women should
They are +conscious of having a power and place in the world, and they +claim it without assumption or affectation, and fill it with a +quiet self-respect, not inconsistent with modesty and due +humility. Such is the ideal presented, and with such skill +that we seem at times to be reading a biography. There is a +sweetness in the conception and execution that makes the heart +and the temper better as we read. So much for the _charm_ of the +books. But, on the other hand, we are compelled to say that +such magisterial lovers as Mr. Carleton and John Humphreys are +not at all to our taste, nor do we believe they would in +actual presence be very fascinating to most young ladies
' + + + + +COLLECTION + +OF + +BRITISH AUTHORS. + + +VOL. CCCVIII. + + +THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD BY ELIZABETH WETHERELL. + + +IN ONE VOLUME + + + + +THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD. + + +BY + + +ELIZABETH WETHERELL. + + + + +_AUTHOR'S EDITION_. + + + + +LEIPZIG + +BERNHARD TAUCHNITZ + +1854. + + + + +"Here at the portal thou dost stand, + +And with thy little hand + +Thou openest the mysterious gate, + +Into the future's undiscovered land + +I see its valves expand, + +As at the touch of FATE! + +Into those realms of Love and Hate." + +LONGFELLOW. + + + + +THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +Breaking the News. + + +"Mamma, what was that I heard papa saying to you this morning +about his lawsuit?" + +"I cannot tell you just now. Ellen, pick up that shawl and +spread it over me." + +"Mamma! are you cold in this warm room?" + +"A little, there, that will do. Now, my daughter, let me be +quiet a while don't disturb me." + +There was no one else in the room. Driven thus to her own +resources, Ellen betook herself to the window, and sought +amusement there. The prospect without gave little promise of +it. Rain was falling, and made the street and everything in it +look dull and gloomy. The foot-passengers plashed through the +water, and the horses and carriages plashed through the mud; +gaiety had forsaken the side-walks, and equipages were few, +and the people that were out were plainly there only because +they could not help it. But yet Ellen, having seriously set +herself to study everything that passed, presently became +engaged in her occupation; and her thoughts travelling +dreamily from one thing to another, she sat for a long time +with her little face pressed against the window-frame, +perfectly regardless of all but the moving world without. + +Daylight gradually faded away, and the street wore a more and +more gloomy aspect. The rain poured, and now only an +occasional carriage or footstep disturbed the sound of its +steady pattering. Yet still Ellen sat with her face glued to +the window as if spell-bound, gazing out at every dusky form +that passed, as though it had some strange interest for her. +At length, in the distance, light after light began to appear; +presently Ellen could see the dim figure of the lamplighter +crossing the street, from side to side, with his ladder; then +he drew near enough for her to watch him as he hooked his +ladder on the lamp-irons, ran up and lit the lamp, then +shouldered the ladder and marched off quick, the light +glancing on his wet oil-skin hat, rough greatcoat, and +lantern, and on the pavement and iron railings. The veriest +moth could not have followed the light with more perseverance +than did Ellen's eyes, till the lamplighter gradually +disappeared from view, and the last lamp she could see was +lit; and not till then did it occur to her that there was such +a place as indoors. She took her face from the window. The +room was dark and cheerless, and Ellen felt stiff and chilly. +However, she made her way to the fire, and having found the +poker, she applied it gently to the Liverpool coal with such +good effect, that a bright ruddy blaze sprang up, and lighted +the whole room. Ellen smiled at the result of her experiment. +"That is something like," said she, to herself; "who says I +can't poke the fire? Now, let us see if I can't do something +else. Do but see how these chairs are standing one would +think we had had a sewing-circle here there, go back to your +places that looks a little better; now, these curtains must +come down, and I may as well shut the shutters too and now +this tablecloth must be content to hang straight, and Mamma's +box and the books must lie in their places, and not all +helter-skelter. Now, I wish Mamma would wake up; I should +think she might. I don't believe she is asleep either she +don't look as if she was." + +Ellen was right in this; her mother's face did not wear the +look of sleep, nor indeed of repose at all; the lips were +compressed, and the brow not calm. To try, however, whether +she was asleep or no, and with the half-acknowledged intent to +rouse her at all events, Ellen knelt down by her side, and +laid her face close to her mother's on the pillow. But this +failed to draw either word or sign. After a minute or two, +Ellen tried stroking her mother's cheek very gently and this +succeeded, for Mrs. Montgomery arrested the little hand as it +passed her lips, and kissed it fondly two or three times. + +"I haven't disturbed you, Mamma, have I?" said Ellen. + +Without replying, Mrs. Montgomery raised herself to a sitting +posture, and lifting both hands to her face, pushed back the +hair from her forehead and temples, with a gesture which Ellen +knew meant that she was making up her mind to some +disagreeable or painful effort. Then taking both Ellen's +hands, as she still knelt before her, she gazed in her face +with a look even more fond than usual, Ellen thought, but much +sadder too; though Mrs. Montgomery's cheerfulness had always +been of a serious kind. + +"What question was that you were asking me a while ago, my +daughter?" + +"I thought, Mamma, I heard papa telling you this morning, or +yesterday, that he had lost that lawsuit." + +"You heard right, Ellen he has lost it," said Mrs. +Montgomery, sadly. + +"Are you sorry, Mamma? does it trouble you?" + +"You know, my dear, that I am not apt to concern myself +overmuch about the gain or the loss of money. I believe my +heavenly Father will give me what is good for me." + +"Then, Mamma, why are you troubled?" + +"Because, my child, I cannot carry out this principle in other +matters, and leave quietly my _all_ in His hands." + +"What is the matter, dear mother? What makes you look so?" + +"This lawsuit, Ellen, has brought upon us more trouble than I +ever thought a lawsuit could the loss of it, I mean." + +"How, Mamma?" + +"It has caused an entire change of all our plans. Your father +says he is too poor now to stay here any longer; and he has +agreed to go soon on some government or military business to +Europe." + +"Well, Mamma, that is bad; but he has been away a great deal +before, and I am sure we were always very happy." + +"But, Ellen, he thinks now, and the doctor thinks too, that it +is very important for my health that I should go with him." + +"Does he, Mamma? and do you mean to go?" + +"I am afraid I must, my dear child." + +"Not, and leave _me_, mother?" + +The imploring look of mingled astonishment, terror, and sorrow +with which Ellen uttered these words, took from her mother all +power of replying. It was not necessary; her little daughter +understood only too well the silent answer of her eye. With a +wild cry she flung her arms round her mother, and hiding her +face in her lap, gave way to a violent burst of grief, that +seemed for a few moments as if it would rend soul and body in +twain. For her passions were by nature very strong, and by +education very imperfectly controlled; and time, "that rider +that breaks youth," had not as yet tried his hand upon her. +And Mrs. Montgomery, in spite of the fortitude and calmness to +which she had steeled herself, bent down over her, and folding +her arms about her, yielded to sorrow deeper still, and for a +little while scarcely less violent in its expression than +Ellen's own. + +Alas! she had too good reason. She knew that the chance of her +ever returning to shield the little creature who was nearest +her heart from the future evils and snares of life was very, +very small. She had at first absolutely refused to leave +Ellen, when her husband proposed it; declaring that she would +rather stay with her and die than take the chance of recovery +at such a cost. But her physician assured her she could not +live long without a change of climate; Captain Montgomery +urged that it was better to submit to a temporary separation, +than to cling obstinately to her child for a few months, and +then leave her for ever; said he must himself go speedily to +France, and that now was her best opportunity; assuring her, +however, that his circumstances would not permit him to take +Ellen with them, but that she would be secure of a happy home +with his sister during her mother's absence; and to the +pressure of argument Captain Montgomery added the weight of +authority insisting on her compliance. Conscience also asked +Mrs. Montgomery whether she had a _right_ to neglect any chance +of life that was offered her; and at last she yielded to the +combined influence of motives no one of which would have had +power sufficient to move her, and though with a secret +consciousness it would be in vain, she consented to do as her +friends wished. And it was for Ellen's sake she did it, after +all. + +Nothing but necessity had given her the courage to open the +matter to her little daughter. She had foreseen and +endeavoured to prepare herself for Ellen's anguish; but nature +was too strong for her, and they clasped each other in a +convulsive embrace, while tears fell like rain. + +It was some minutes before Mrs. Montgomery recollected +herself, and then, though she struggled hard, she could not +immediately regain her composure. But Ellen's deep sobs at +length fairly alarmed her; she saw the necessity, for both +their sakes, of putting a stop to this state of violent +excitement; self-command was restored at once. + +"Ellen! Ellen! listen to me," she said. "My child, this is not +right. Remember, my darling, who it is that brings this sorrow +upon us; though we _must_ sorrow, we must not rebel." + +Ellen sobbed more gently; but that and the mute pressure of +her arms was her only answer. + +"You will hurt both yourself and me, my daughter, if you +cannot command yourself. Remember, dear Ellen, God sends no +trouble upon his children but in love; and though we cannot +see how, he will no doubt make all this work for our good." + +"I know it, dear mother," sobbed Ellen, "but it's just as +hard!" + +Mrs. Montgomery's own heart answered so readily to the truth +of Ellen's words, that for the moment she could not speak. + +"Try, my daughter," she said, after a pause, "try to compose +yourself. I am afraid you will make me worse, Ellen, if you +cannot; I am indeed." + +Ellen had plenty of faults, but amidst them all, love to her +mother was the strongest feeling her heart knew. It had power +enough now to move her as nothing else could have done; and +exerting all her self-command, of which she had sometimes a +good deal, she _did_ calm herself; ceased sobbing; wiped her +eyes; arose from her crouching posture, and seating herself on +the sofa by her mother, and laying her head on her bosom, she +listened quietly to all the soothing words and cheering +considerations with which Mrs. Montgomery endeavoured to lead +her to take a more hopeful view of the subject. All she could +urge, however, had but very partial success, though the +conversation was prolonged far into the evening. Ellen said +little, and did not weep any more; but in secret her heart +refused consolation. + +Long before this the servant had brought in the tea-things. +Nobody regarded it at the time, but the little kettle hissing +away on the fire now by chance attracted Ellen's attention, +and she suddenly recollected her mother had had no tea. To +make her mother's tea was Ellen's regular business. She +treated it as a very grave affair, and loved it as one of the +pleasantest in the course of the day. She used in the first +place to make sure that the kettle really boiled; then she +carefully poured some water into the teapot and rinsed it, +both to make it clean and to make it hot; then she knew +exactly how much tea to put into the tiny little teapot, which +was just big enough to hold two cups of tea; and having poured +a very little boiling water to it, she used to set it by the +side of the fire while she made half a slice of toast. How +careful Ellen was about that toast! The bread must not be cut +too thick, nor too thin; the fire must, if possible, burn +clear and bright; and she herself held the bread on a fork, +just at the right distance from the coals to get nicely +browned without burning. When this was done to her +satisfaction (and if the first piece failed, she would take +another), she filled up the little tea-pot from the boiling +kettle, and proceeded to make a cup of tea. She knew, and was +very careful to put in, just the quantity of milk and sugar +that her mother liked; and then she used to carry the tea and +toast on a little tray to her mother's side, and very often +held it there for her while she ate. All this Ellen did with +the zeal that love gives, and though the same thing was to be +gone over every night of the year, she was never wearied. It +was a real pleasure; she had the greatest satisfaction in +seeing that the little her mother could eat was prepared for +her in the nicest possible manner; she knew her hands made it +taste better; her mother often said so. + +But this evening other thoughts had driven this important +business quite out of poor Ellen's mind. Now, however, when +her eyes fell upon the little kettle, she recollected her +mother had not had her tea, and must want it very much; and +silently slipping off the sofa, she set about getting it as +usual. There was no doubt this time whether the kettle boiled +or no; it had been hissing for an hour and more, calling as +loud as it could to somebody to come and make the tea. So +Ellen made it, and then began the toast. But she began to +think, too, as she watched it, how few more times she would be +able to do so how soon her pleasant tea makings would be +over and the desolate feeling of separation began to come +upon her before the time. These thoughts were too much for +poor Ellen; the thick tears gathered so fast, she could not +see what she was doing; and she had no more than just turned +the slice of bread on the fork when the sickness of heart +quite overcame her; she could not go on. Toast and fork and +all dropped from her hand into the ashes; and rushing to her +mother's side, who was now lying down again, and throwing +herself upon her, she burst into another fit of sorrow not +so violent as the former, but with a touch of hopelessness in +it which went yet more to her mother's heart. Passion in the +first said, "I cannot;" despair now seemed to say, "I must." + +But Mrs. Montgomery was too exhausted to either share or +soothe Ellen's agitation. She lay in suffering silence; till +after some time she said faintly "Ellen, my love, I cannot +bear this much longer." + +Ellen was immediately brought to herself by these words. She +arose, sorry and ashamed that she should have given occasion +for them, and tenderly kissing her mother, assured her, most +sincerely and resolutely, that she would not do so again. In a +few minutes she was calm enough to finish making the tea, and +having toasted another piece of bread, she brought it to her +mother. Mrs. Montgomery swallowed a cup of tea, but no toast +could be eaten that night. + +Both remained silent and quiet awhile after this, till the +clock struck ten. "You had better go to bed, my daughter," +said Mrs. Montgomery. + +"I will, Mamma." + +"Do you think you can read me a little before you go?" + +"Yes, indeed, Mamma;" and Ellen brought the book. "Where shall +I read?" + +"The twenty-third Psalm." + +Ellen began it, and went through it steadily and slowly, +though her voice quivered a little. + + +" 'The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. + +" 'He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me +beside the still waters. + +" 'He restoreth my soul; he leadeth me in the paths of +righteousness for his name's sake. + +" 'Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I +will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff +they comfort me. + +" 'Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine +enemies; thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. + +" 'Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of +my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.' +" + + +Long before she had finished, Ellen's eyes were full, and her +heart too. "If I only could feel these words as Mamma does!" +she said to herself. She did not dare look up till the traces +of tears had passed away; then she saw that her mother was +asleep. Those first sweet words had fallen like balm upon the +sore heart; and mind and body had instantly found rest +together. + +Ellen breathed the lightest possible kiss upon her forehead, +and stole quietly out of the room to her own little bed. + + +CHAPTER II. + +Gives sorrow to the winds. + + +Sorrow and excitement made Ellen's eyelids heavy, and she +slept late on the following morning. The great dressing-bell +waked her. She started up with a confused notion that +something was the matter: there was a weight on her heart that +was very strange to it. A moment was enough to bring it all +back; and she threw herself again on her pillow, yielding +helplessly to the grief she had twice been obliged to control +the evening before. Yet love was stronger than grief still, +and she was careful to allow no sound to escape her that could +reach the ears of her mother, who slept in the next room. Her +resolve was firm to grieve her no more with useless +expressions of sorrow to keep it to herself as much as +possible. But this very thought, that she must keep it to +herself, gave an edge to poor Ellen's grief, and the +convulsive clasp of her little arms round the pillow plainly +showed that it needed none. + +The breakfast-bell again startled her, and she remembered she +must not be too late down stairs, or her mother might inquire +and find out the reason. "I will _not_ trouble mother I will +not I will not!" she resolved to herself as she got out of +bed, though the tears fell faster as she said so. Dressing was +sad work to Ellen to-day; it went on very heavily. Tears +dropped into the water as she stooped her head to the basin; +and she hid her face in the towel to cry, instead of making +the ordinary use of it. But the usual duties were dragged +through at last, and she went to the window. "I'll not go down +till papa is gone," she thought "he'll ask me what is the +matter with my eyes." + +Ellen opened the window. The rain was over; the lovely light +of a fair September morning was beautifying everything it +shone upon. Ellen had been accustomed to amuse herself a good +deal at this window, though nothing was to be seen from it but +an ugly city prospect of back walls of houses, with the yards +belonging to them, and a bit of narrow street. But she had +watched the people that showed themselves at the windows, and +the children that played in the yards, and the women that went +to the pumps, till she had become pretty well acquainted with +the neighbourhood; and though they were for the most part +dingy, dirty, and disagreeable women, children, houses, and +all she certainly had taken a good deal of interest in their +proceedings. It was all gone now. She could not bear to look +at them; she felt as if it made her sick; and turning away her +eyes, she lifted them to the bright sky above her head, and +gazed into its clear depth of blue till she almost forgot that +there was such a thing as a city in the world. Little white +clouds were chasing across it, driven by the fresh wind that +was blowing away Ellen's hair from her face, and cooling her +hot cheeks. That wind could not have been long in coming from +the place of woods and flowers, it was so sweet still. Ellen +looked till, she didn't know why, she felt calmed and soothed + as if somebody was saying to her softly, "Cheer up, my +child, cheer up; things are not so bad as they might be: +things will be better." Her attention was attracted at length +by voices below; she looked down, and saw there, in one of the +yards, a poor deformed child, whom she had often noticed +before, and always with sorrowful interest. Besides his bodily +infirmity, he had a further claim on her sympathy, in having +lost his mother within a few months. Ellen's heart was easily +touched this morning; she felt for him very much. "Poor, poor +little fellow!" she thought; "he's a great deal worse off than +I am. _His_ mother is dead; mine is only going away for a few +months not for ever oh, what a difference! and then the +joy of coming back again!" poor Ellen was weeping already at +the thought "and I will do, oh, how much! while she is gone + I'll do more than she can possibly expect from me I'll +astonish her I'll delight her I'll work harder than ever I +did in my life before I'll mend all my faults, and give her +so much pleasure! But oh! if she only needn't go away! oh, +Mamma!" Tears of mingled sweet and bitter were poured out +fast, but the bitter had the largest share. + +The breakfast-table was still standing, and her father gone, +when Ellen went down stairs. Mrs. Montgomery welcomed her with +her usual quiet smile, and held out her hand. Ellen tried to +smile in answer, but she was glad to hide her face in her +mother's bosom; and the long close embrace was too close and +too long; it told of sorrow as well as love; and tears fell +from the eyes of each, that the other did not see. + +"Need I go to school to-day, Mamma?" whispered Ellen. + +"No; I spoke to your father about that; you shall not go any +more; we will be together now while we can." + +Ellen wanted to ask how long that would be, but could not make +up her mind to it. + +"Sit down, daughter, and take some breakfast." + +"Have you done, Mamma?" + +"No I waited for you." + +"Thank you, dear Mamma" with another embrace "how good you +are! but I don't think I want any." + +They drew their chairs to the table, but it was plain neither +had much heart to eat; although Mrs. Montgomery with her own +hands laid on Ellen's plate half of the little bird that had +been boiled for her own breakfast. The half was too much for +each of them. + +"What made you so late this morning, daughter?" + +"I got up late, in the first place, Mamma; and then I was a +long time at the window." + +"At the window? Were you examining into your neighbours' +affairs, as usual?" said Mrs. Montgomery, surprised that it +should have been so. + +"Oh, no, Mamma, I didn't look at them at all, except poor +little Billy. I was looking at the sky." + +"And what did you see there that pleased you so much?" + +"I don't know, Mamma; it looked so lovely and peaceful that +pure blue spread over my head, and the little white clouds +flying across it I loved to look at it; it seemed to do me +good." + +"Could you look at it, Ellen, without thinking of Him who made +it?" + +"No, Mamma," said Ellen, ceasing her breakfast, and now +speaking with difficulty; "I did think of Him; perhaps that +was the reason." + +"And what did you think of Him, daughter?" + +"I hoped, Mamma I felt I thought he would take care of +me," said Ellen, bursting into tears, and throwing her arms +around her mother. + +"He will, my dear daughter, he will, if you will only put +your trust in Him, Ellen." + +Ellen struggled hard to get back her composure, and after a +few minutes succeeded. + +"Mamma, will you tell me what you mean exactly by my 'putting +my trust' in Him?" + +"Don't you trust me, Ellen?" + +"Certainly, Mamma." + +"How do you trust me? in what?" + +"Why, Mamma, in the first place I trust every word you say +entirely I know nothing could be truer; if you were to tell +me black is white, Mamma, I should think my eyes had been +mistaken. Then everything you tell or advise me to do, I know +it is right, perfectly. And I always feel safe when you are +near me, because I know you'll take care of me. And I am glad +to think I belong to you, and you have the management of me +entirely, and I needn't manage myself, because I know I can't; +and if I could, I'd rather you would, Mamma." + +"My daughter, it is just so it is _just_ so that I wish you +to trust in God. He is truer, wiser, stronger, kinder by far +than I am, even if I could always be with you; and what will +you do when I am away from you? And what would you do, my +child, if I were to be parted from you forever?" + +"Oh, Mamma!" said Ellen, bursting into tears, and clasping her +arms round her mother again "Oh, dear Mamma, don't talk +about it!" + +Her mother fondly returned her caress, and one or two tears +fell on Ellen's head as she did so, but that was all, and she +said no more. Feeling severely the effects of the excitement +and anxiety of the preceding day and night, she now stretched +herself on the sofa, and lay quite still. Ellen placed herself +on a little bench at her side, with her back to the head of +the sofa, that her mother might not see her face; and, +possessing herself of one of her hands, sat with her little +head resting upon her mother, as quiet as she. They remained +thus for two or three hours without speaking; and Mrs. +Montgomery was part of the time slumbering; but now and then a +tear ran down the side of the sofa, and dropped on the carpet +where Ellen sat: and now and then her lips were softly pressed +to the hand she held, as if they would grow there. + +The doctor's entrance at last disturbed them. Dr. Green found +his patient decidedly worse than he had reason to expect; and +his sagacious eye had not passed back and forth many times +between the mother and daughter before he saw how it was. He +made no remark upon it, however, but continued for some +moments a pleasant chatty conversation which he had begun with +Mrs. Montgomery. He then called Ellen to him; he had rather +taken a fancy to her. + +"Well, Miss Ellen," he said, rubbing one of her hands in his, +"what do you think of this fine scheme of mine?" + +"What scheme, Sir?" + +"Why, this scheme of sending this sick lady over the water to +get well; what do you think of it, eh?" + +"_Will_ it make her quite well, do you think, Sir?" asked Ellen, +earnestly. + +" 'Will it make her well?' to be sure it will. Do you think +I don't know better than to send people all the way across the +ocean for nothing? Who do you think would want Dr. Green if he +sent people on wild-goose-chases in that fashion?" + +"Will she have to stay long there before she is cured, Sir?" +asked Ellen. + +"Oh, that I can't tell; that depends entirely on circumstances + perhaps longer, perhaps shorter. But now, Miss Ellen, I've +got a word of business to say to you; you know you agreed to +be my little nurse. Mrs. Nurse, this lady whom I put under +your care the other day, isn't quite as well as she ought to +be this morning; I am afraid you haven't taken proper care of +her; she looks to me as if she had been too much excited. I've +a notion she has been secretly taking half a bottle of wine, +or reading some furious kind of a novel, or something of that +sort you understand? Now mind, Mrs. Nurse," said the doctor, +changing his tone "she _must not_ be excited you must take +care that she is not it isn't good for her. You mustn't let +her talk too much, or laugh much, or cry at all, on any +account; she mustn't be worried in the least will you +remember? Now, you know what I shall expect of you; you must +be very careful; if that piece of toast of yours should chance +to get burned, one of these fine evenings, I won't answer for +the consequences. Good-bye," said he, shaking Ellen's hand; +"you needn't look sober about it; all you have to do is to let +your Mamma be as much like an oyster as possible; you +understand? Good-bye." And Dr. Green took his leave. + +"Poor woman!" said the doctor to himself, as he went down +stairs (he was a humane man) "I wonder if she'll live till +she gets to the other side! That's a nice little girl, too. +Poor child! poor child!" + +Both mother and daughter silently acknowledged the justice of +the doctor's advice, and determined to follow it. By common +consent, as it seemed, each for several days avoided bringing +the subject of sorrow to the other's mind; though no doubt it +was constantly present to both. It was not spoken of; indeed, +little of any kind was spoken of, but that never. Mrs. +Montgomery was doubtless employed, during this interval, in +preparing for what she believed was before her; endeavouring +to resign herself and her child to Him in whose hands they +were, and struggling to withdraw her affections from a world +which she had a secret misgiving she was fast leaving. As for +Ellen, the doctor's warning had served to strengthen the +resolve she had already made, that she would not distress her +mother with the sight of her sorrow; and she kept it, as far +as she could. She did not let her mother see but very few +tears, and those were quiet ones; though she drooped her head +like a withered flower, and went about the house with an air +of submissive sadness, that tried her mother sorely. But when +she was alone, and knew no one could see, sorrow had its way; +and then there were sometimes agonies of grief that would +almost have broken Mrs. Montgomery's resolution, had she known +them. + +This, however, could not last. Ellen was a child, and of most +buoyant and elastic spirit naturally; it was not for one +sorrow, however great, to utterly crush her. It would have +taken years to do that. Moreover, she entertained not the +slightest hope of being able by any means to alter her +father's will. She regarded the dreaded evil as an inevitable +thing. But though she was at first overwhelmed with sorrow, +and for some days evidently pined under it sadly, hope at +length _would_ come back to her little heart; and no sooner in +again, hope began to smooth the roughest, and soften the +hardest, and touch the dark spots with light, in Ellen's +future. The thoughts which had just passed through her head +that first morning, as she stood at her window, now came back +again. Thoughts of wonderful improvement to be made during her +mother's absence; of unheard-of efforts to learn and amend, +which should all be crowned with success; and, above all, +thoughts of that "coming home," when all these attainments and +accomplishments should be displayed to her mother's delighted +eyes, and her exertions receive their long-desired reward; +they made Ellen's heart beat, and her eyes swim, and even +brought a smile once more upon her lips. Mrs. Montgomery was +rejoiced to see the change; she felt that as much time had +already been given to sorrow as they could afford to lose, and +she had not known exactly how to proceed. Ellen's amended +looks and spirits greatly relieved her. + +"What are you thinking about, Ellen?" said she, one morning. + +Ellen was sewing, and while busy at her work her mother had +two or three times observed a light smile pass over her face. +Ellen looked up, still smiling, and answered, "Oh, Mamma, I +was thinking of different things things that I mean to do +while you are gone." + +"And what are these things?" inquired her mother. + +"Oh, Mamma, it wouldn't do to tell you beforehand; I want to +surprise you with them when you come back." + +A slight shudder passed over Mrs. Montgomery's frame, but +Ellen did not see it. Mrs. Montgomery was silent. Ellen +presently introduced another subject. + +"Mamma, what kind of a person is my aunt?" + +"I do not know I have never seen her." + +"How has that happened, Mamma?" + +"Your aunt has always lived in a remote country town, and I +have been very much confined to two or three cities, and your +father's long and repeated absences made travelling impossible +to me." + +Ellen thought, but she didn't say it, that it was very odd her +father should not sometimes, when he _was_ in the country, have +gone to see his relations, and taken her mother with him. + +"What is my aunt's name, Mamma?" + +"I think you must have heard that already, Ellen Fortune +Emerson." + +"Emerson! I thought she was papa's sister!" + +"So she is." + +"Then how comes her name not to be Montgomery?" + +"She is only his half-sister the daughter of his mother, not +the daughter of his father." + +"I am very sorry for that," said Ellen, gravely. + +"Why, my daughter?" + +"I am afraid she will not be so likely to love me." + +"You mustn't think so, my child. Her loving or not loving you +will depend solely and entirely upon yourself, Ellen. Don't +forget that. If you are a good child, and make it your daily +care to do your duty, she cannot help liking you, be she what +she may; and, on the other hand, if she have all the will in +the world to love you, she cannot do it unless you will let +her it all depends on your behaviour." + +"Oh, Mamma, I can't help wishing dear aunt Bessy was alive, +and I was going to her." + +Many a time the same wish had passed through Mrs. Montgomery's +mind. But she kept down her rising heart, and went on calmly + +"You must not expect, my child, to find anybody as indulgent +as I am, or as ready to overlook and excuse your faults. It +would be unreasonable to look for it; and you must not think +hardly of your aunt when you find she is not your mother; but +then it will be your own fault if she does not love you, in +time, truly and tenderly. See that you render her all the +respect and obedience you could render me; that is your +bounden duty; she will stand in my place while she has the +care of you remember that, Ellen; and remember, too, that +she will deserve more gratitude at your hands for showing you +kindness than I do, because she cannot have the same feeling +of love to make trouble easy." + +"Oh, no, Mamma," said Ellen, "I don't think so; it's that very +feeling of love that I am grateful for; I don't care a fig for +anything people do for me without that." + +"But you can make her love you, Ellen, if you try." + +"Well, I'll try, Mamma." + +"And don't be discouraged. Perhaps you may be disappointed in +first appearances, but never mind that; have patience; and let +your motto be (if there's any occasion), 'Overcome evil with +good'. Will you put that among the things you mean to do while +I am gone?" said Mrs. Montgomery, with a smile. + +"I'll try, dear Mamma." + +"You will succeed if you try, dear, never fear if you apply +yourself in your trying to the only unfailing source of wisdom +and strength to Him without whom you can do nothing." + +There was silence for a little. + +"What sort of a place is it where my aunt lives?" asked Ellen. + +"Your father says it is a very pleasant place; he says the +country is beautiful, and very healthy, and full of charming +walks and rides. You have never lived in the country; I think +you will enjoy it very much." + +"Then it is not a town?" said Ellen. + +"No; it is not far from the town of Thirlwall, but your aunt +lives in the open country. Your father says she is a capital +housekeeper, and that you will learn more, and be in all +respects a great deal happier and better off, than you would +be in a boarding-school here or anywhere." + +Ellen's heart secretly questioned the truth of this last +assertion very much. + +"Is there any school near?" she asked. + +"Your father says there was an excellent one in Thirlwall when +he was there." + +"Mamma," said Ellen, "I think the greatest pleasure I shall +have while you are gone will be writing to you. I have been +thinking of it a good deal. I mean to tell you everything +absolutely everything, Mamma. You know there will be nobody +for me to talk to as I do to you" (Ellen's words came out with +difficulty); "and when I feel badly, I shall just shut myself +up and write to you." She hid her face in her mother's lap. + +"I count upon it, my dear daughter; it will make quite as much +the pleasure of my life, Ellen, as of yours." + +"But then, mother," said Ellen, brushing away the tears from +her eyes, "it will be so long before my letters can get to +you! The things I want you to know right away, you won't know, +perhaps, in a month." + +"That's no matter, daughter; they will be just as good when +they do get to me. Never think of that; write every day, and +all manner of things that concern you just as particularly +as if you were speaking to me." + +"And you'll write to me, too, Mamma?" + +"Indeed I will when I can. But, Ellen, you say that when I +am away, and cannot hear you, there will be nobody to supply +my place. Perhaps it will be so, indeed; but then, my +daughter, let it make you seek that Friend who is never far +away nor out of hearing. Draw nigh to God, and he will draw +nigh to you. You know he has said of his children 'Before +they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I +will hear.' " + +"But, Mamma," said Ellen, her eyes filling instantly, "you +know he is not my friend in the same way that he is yours." +And, hiding her face again, she added, "Oh, I wish he was!" + +"You know the way to make him so, Ellen. _He_ is willing; it +only rests with you. Oh, my child, my child! if losing your +mother might be the means of finding you that better Friend, I +should be quite willing and glad to go for ever." + +There was silence, only broken by Ellen's sobs. Mrs. +Montgomery's voice had trembled, and her face was now covered +with her hands; but she was not weeping; she was seeking a +better relief where it had long been her habit to seek and +find it. Both resumed their usual composure, and the +employments which had been broken off; but neither chose to +renew the conversation. Dinner, sleeping, and company +prevented their having another opportunity during the rest of +the day. + +But when evening came, they were again left to themselves. +Captain Montgomery was away, which indeed was the case most of +the time; friends had taken their departure; the curtains were +down, the lamp lit, the little room looked cozy and +comfortable; the servant had brought the tea-things, and +withdrawn, and the mother and daughter were happily alone. +Mrs. Montgomery knew that such occasions were numbered, and +fast drawing to an end, and she felt each one to be very +precious. She now lay on her couch, with her face partially +shaded, and her eyes fixed upon her little daughter, who was +now preparing the tea. She watched her, with thoughts and +feelings not to be spoken, as the little figure went back and +forward between the table and the fire, and the light shining +full upon her face, showed that Ellen's whole soul was in her +beloved duty. Tears would fall as she looked, and were not +wiped away; but when Ellen, having finished her work, brought +with a satisfied face the little tray of tea and toast to her +mother, there was no longer any sign of them left; Mrs. +Montgomery arose with her usual kind smile, to show her +gratitude by honouring, as far as possible, what Ellen had +provided. + +"You have more appetite to-night, Mamma." + +"I am very glad, daughter," replied her mother, "to see that +you have made up your mind to bear patiently this evil that +has come upon us. I am glad for your sake, and I am glad for +mine; and I am glad, too, because we have a great deal to do, +and no time to lose in doing it." + +"What, have we so much to do, Mamma?" said Ellen. + +"Oh, many things," said her mother, "you will see. But now, +Ellen, if there is anything you wish to talk to me about, any +question you want to ask, anything you would like particularly +to have, or to have done for you I want you to tell it me as +soon as possible, now, while we can attend to it for by-and- +by perhaps we shall be hurried." + +"Mamma," said Ellen, with brightening eyes, "there is one +thing I have thought of that I should like to have shall I +tell it you now?" + +"Yes." + +"Mamma, you know I shall want to be writing a great deal; +wouldn't it be a good thing for me to have a little box with +some pens in it, and an inkstand, and some paper and wafers? +Because, Mamma, you know I shall be among strangers at first, +and I shan't like asking them for these things as often as I +shall want them, and may be they wouldn't want to let me have +them if I did." + +"I have thought of that already, daughter," said Mrs. +Montgomery, with a smile and a sigh. "I will certainly take +care that you are well provided in that respect before you +go." + +"How am I to go, Mamma?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean, who will go with me? You know I can't go alone, +Mamma." + +"No, my daughter. I'll not send you alone. But your father +says it is impossible for _him_ to take the journey at present, +and it is yet more impossible for me. There is no help for it, +daughter, but we must intrust you to the care of some friend +going that way; but He that holds the winds and waters in +the hollow of his hand, can take care of you without any of +our help, and it is to his keeping above all that I shall +commit you." + +Ellen made no remark, and seemed much less surprised and +troubled than her mother had expected. In truth, the greater +evil swallowed up the less. Parting from her mother, and for +so long a time, it seemed to her comparatively a matter of +little importance with whom she went, or how, or where. Except +for this, the taking a long journey under a stranger's care? +would have been a dreadful thing to her. + +"Do you know yet who it will be that I shall go with, Mamma?" + +"Not yet; but it will be necessary to take the first good +opportunity, for I cannot go till I have seen you off. and it +is thought very desirable that I should get to sea before the +severe weather comes." + +It was with a pang that these words were spoken and heard, but +neither showed it to the other. + +"It has comforted me greatly, my dear child, that you have +shown yourself so submissive and patient under this +affliction. I should scarcely have been able to endure it if +you had not exerted self-control. You have behaved +beautifully." + +This was almost too much for poor Ellen. It required her +utmost stretch of self-control to keep within any bounds of +composure; and for some moments her flushed cheek, quivering +lip, and heaving bosom, told what a tumult her mother's words +had raised. Mrs. Montgomery saw she had gone too far, and, +willing to give both Ellen and herself time to recover, she +laid her head on the pillow again, and closed her eyes. Many +thoughts coming thick upon one another presently filled her +mind, and half an hour had passed before she again recollected +what she had meant to say. She opened her eyes; Ellen was +sitting at a little distance, staring into the fire +evidently as deep in meditation as her mother had been. + +"Ellen," said Mrs. Montgomery, "did you ever fancy what kind +of a Bible you would like to have?" + +"A Bible, Mamma!" said Ellen, with sparkling eyes; "do you +mean to give me a Bible?" + +Mrs. Montgomery smiled. + +"But, Mamma," said Ellen, gently, "I thought you couldn't +afford it?" + +"I have said so, and truly," answered her mother; "and +hitherto you have been able to use mine, but I will not leave +you now without one. I will find ways and means," said Mrs. +Montgomery, smiling again. + +"Oh, Mamma, thank you," said Ellen, delighted; "how glad I +shall be!" And, after a pause of consideration, she added, +"Mamma, I never thought much about what sort of a one I should +like couldn't I tell better if I were to see the different +kinds in the store?" + +"Perhaps so. Well, the first day that the weather is fine +enough, and I am well enough, I will go out with you, and we +will see about it." + +"I am afraid Dr. Green won't let you, Mamma." + +"I shall not ask him. I want to get you a Bible, and some +other things that I will not leave you without, and nobody can +do it but myself. I shall go, if I possibly can." + +"What other things, Mamma?" asked Ellen, very much interested +in the subject. + +"I don't think it will do to tell you to-night," said Mrs. +Montgomery, smiling. "I foresee that you and I should be kept +awake too late if we were to enter upon it just now. We will +leave it till to-morrow. Now read to me, love, and then to +bed." + +Ellen obeyed; and went to sleep with brighter visions dancing +before her eyes than had been the case for some time. + + +CHAPTER III. + +The worth of a Finger-Ring. + + +Ellen had to wait some time for the desired fine day. The +equinoctial storms would have their way, as usual, and Ellen +thought they were longer than ever this year. But after many +stormy days had tried her patience, there was at length a +sudden change, both without and within doors. The clouds had +done their work for that time, and fled away before a strong +northerly wind, leaving the sky bright and fair. And Mrs. +Montgomery's deceitful disease took a turn, and for a little +space raised the hopes of her friends. All were rejoicing but +two persons Mrs. Montgomery was not deceived, neither was +the doctor. The shopping project was kept a profound secret +from him, and from everybody except Ellen. + +Ellen watched now for a favourable day. Every morning as soon +as she rose, she went to the window to see what was the look +of the weather; and about a week after the change above +noticed, she was greatly pleased one morning, on opening her +window, as usual, to find the air and sky promising all that +could be desired. It was one of those beautiful days in the +end of September, that sometimes herald October before it +arrives cloudless, brilliant, and breathing balm. "This will +do," said Ellen to herself, in great satisfaction "I think +this will do I hope Mamma will think so." + +Hastily dressing herself, and a good deal excited already, she +ran down stairs, and, after the morning salutations, examined +her mother's looks with as much anxiety as she had just done +those of the weather. All was satisfactory there also; and +Ellen ate her breakfast with an excellent appetite; but she +said not a word of the intended expedition till her father +should be gone. She contented herself with strengthening her +hopes, by making constant fresh inspections of the weather and +her mother's countenance alternately; and her eyes returning +from the window on one of these excursions, and meeting her +mother's face, saw a smile there which said all she wanted. +Breakfast went on more vigorously than ever. But after +breakfast it seemed to Ellen that her father never would go +away. He took the newspaper, an uncommon thing for him, and +pored over it most perseveringly, while Ellen was in a perfect +fidget of impatience. Her mother, seeing the state she was in, +and taking pity on her, sent her up stairs to do some little +matters of business in her own room. These Ellen despatched +with all possible zeal and speed; and coming down again, found +her father gone, and her mother alone. She flew to kiss her in +the first place, and then made the inquiry, "Don't you think +to-day will do, Mamma?" + +"As fine as possible, daughter; we could not have a better; +but I must wait till the doctor has been here." + +"Mamma," said Ellen, after a pause, making a great effort of +self-denial, "I am afraid you oughtn't to go out to get these +things for me. Pray don't, Mamma, if you think it will do you +harm. I would rather go without them; indeed I would." + +"Never mind that, daughter," said Mrs. Montgomery, kissing +her; "I am bent upon it; it would be quite as much of a +disappointment to me as to you, not to go. We have a lovely +day for it, and we will take our time and walk slowly, and we +haven't far to go either. But I must let Dr. Green make his +visit first." + +To fill up the time till he came, Mrs. Montgomery employed +Ellen in reading to her, as usual. And this morning's reading +Ellen long after remembered. Her mother directed her to +several passages in different parts of the Bible that speak of +heaven and its enjoyments; and though, when she began, her own +little heart was full of excitement, in view of the day's +plans, and beating with hope and pleasure, the sublime beauty +of the words and thoughts, as she went on, awed her into +quiet, and her mother's manner at length turned her attention +entirely from herself. Mrs. Montgomery was lying on the sofa, +and for the most part listened in silence, with her eyes +closed, but sometimes saying a word or two that made Ellen +feel how deep was the interest her mother had in the things +she read of, and how pure and strong the pleasure she was even +now taking in them; and sometimes there was a smile on her +face that Ellen scarce liked to see; it gave her an indistinct +feeling that her mother would not be long away from that +heaven to which she seemed already to belong. Ellen had a sad +consciousness, too, that she had no part with her mother in +this matter. She could hardly go on. She came to that +beautiful passage in the seventh of Revelation: + + +"And one of the elders answered, saying unto me, What are +these which are arrayed in white robes? and whence came they? +And I said unto him. Sir thou knowest. And he said to me, +These are they which came out of great tribulation, and have +washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the +Lamb. Therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve +him day and night in his temple: and he that sitteth on the +throne shall dwell among them. They shall hunger no more, +neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, +nor any heat. For the Lamb, which is in the midst of the +throne, shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living +fountains of waters; and God shall wipe away all tears from +their eyes." + + +With difficulty, and a husky voice, Ellen got through it. +Lifting then her eyes to her mother's face, she saw again the +same singular sweet smile. Ellen felt that she could not read +another word; to her great relief the door opened, and Dr. +Green came in. His appearance changed the whole course of her +thoughts. All that was grave or painful fled quickly away; +Ellen's head was immediately full again of what had filled it +before she began to read. + +As soon as the doctor had retired, and was fairly out of +hearing, "Now, Mamma, shall we go?" said Ellen. "You needn't +stir, Mamma; I'll bring all your things to you, and put them +on may I, Mamma? then you won't be a bit tired before you +set out." + +Her mother assented; and with a great deal of tenderness, and +a great deal of eagerness, Ellen put on her stockings and +shoes, arranged her hair, and did all that she could towards +changing her dress, and putting on her bonnet and shawl; and +greatly delighted she was when the business was accomplished. + +"Now, Mamma, you look like yourself; I haven't seen you look +so well this great while. I'm glad you're going out again," +said Ellen, putting her arms round her; "I do believe it will +do you good. Now, Mamma, I'll go and get ready; I'll be very +quick about it; you shan't have to wait long for me." + +In a few minutes the two set forth from the house. The day was +as fine as could be; there was no wind, there was no dust; the +sun was not oppressive; and Mrs. Montgomery did feel refreshed +and strengthened during the few steps they had to take to +their first stopping-place. + +It was a jeweller's store. Ellen had never been in one before +in her life, and her first feeling on entering was of dazzled +wonderment at the glittering splendours around; this was +presently forgotten in curiosity to know what her mother could +possibly want there. She soon discovered that she had come to +sell, and not to buy. Mrs. Montgomery drew a ring from her +finger, and, after a little chaffering, parted with it to the +owner of the store for eighty dollars, being about three- +quarters of its real value. The money was counted out, and she +left the store. + +"Mamma," said Ellen, in a low voice, "wasn't that grandmamma's +ring, which I thought you loved so much?" + +"Yes, I did love it, Ellen, but I love you better." + +"Oh, Mamma, I am very sorry!" said Ellen. + +"You need not be sorry, daughter. Jewels in themselves are the +merest nothings to me; and as for the rest, it doesn't matter; +I can remember my mother without any help from a trinket." + +There were tears, however, in Mrs. Montgomery's eyes, that +showed the sacrifice had cost her something; and there were +tears in Ellen's, that told it was not thrown away upon her. + +"I am sorry you should know of this," continued Mrs. +Montgomery; "you should not if I could have helped it. But set +your heart quite at rest, Ellen; I assure you this use of my +ring gives me more pleasure on the whole than any other I +could have made of it." + +A grateful squeeze of her hand and glance into her face was +Ellen's answer. + +Mrs. Montgomery had applied to her husband for the funds +necessary to fit Ellen comfortably for the time they should be +absent; and in answer he had given her a sum barely sufficient +for her mere clothing. Mrs. Montgomery knew him better than to +ask for a further supply, but she resolved to have recourse to +other means to do what she had determined upon. Now that she +was about to leave her little daughter, and it might be for +ever, she had set her heart upon providing her with certain +things which she thought important to her comfort and +improvement, and which Ellen would go very long without if _she_ +did not give them to her, and _now_. Ellen had had very few +presents in her life, and those always of the simplest and +cheapest kind; her mother resolved that in the midst of the +bitterness of this time she would give her one pleasure, if +she could it might be the last. + +They stopped next at a book-store. "Oh, what a delicious smell +of new books!" said Ellen, as they entered. "Mamma, if it +wasn't for one thing, I should say I never was so happy in my +life." + +Children's books, lying in tempting confusion near the door, +immediately fastened Ellen's eyes and attention. She opened +one, and was already deep in the interest of it, when the word +"_Bibles_" struck her ear. Mrs. Montgomery was desiring the +shopman to show her various kinds and sizes, that she might +choose from among them. Down went Ellen's book, and she flew +to the place, where a dozen different Bibles were presently +displayed. Ellen's wits were ready to forsake her. Such +beautiful Bibles she had never seen; she pored in ecstasy over +their varieties of type and binding, and was very evidently in +love with them all. + +"Now, Ellen," said Mrs. Montgomery, "look and choose; take +your time, and see which you like best." + +It was not likely that Ellen's "time" would be a short one. +Her mother seeing this, took a chair at a little distance, to +await patiently her decision; and while Ellen's eyes were +riveted on the Bibles, her own, very naturally, were fixed +upon her. In the excitement and eagerness of the moment, Ellen +had thrown off her little bonnet, and with flushed cheek and +sparkling eye, and a brow grave with unusual care, as though a +nation's fate were deciding, she was weighing the comparative +advantages of large, small, and middle-sized black, blue, +purple, and red gilt and not gilt clasp and no clasp. +Everything but the Bibles before her Ellen had forgotten +utterly; she was deep in what was to her the most important of +business; she did not see the bystanders smile she did not +know there were any. To her mother's eye it was a most fair +sight. Mrs. Montgomery gazed with rising emotions of pleasure +and pain that struggled for the mastery; but pain at last got +the better, and rose very high. "How can I give thee up!" was +the one thought of her heart. Unable to command herself, she +rose and went to a distant part of the counter, where she +seemed to be examining books; but tears, some of the bitterest +she had ever shed, were falling thick upon the dusty floor, +and she felt her heart like to break. Her little daughter, at +one end of the counter, had forgotten there ever was such a +thing as sorrow in the world; and she, at the other, was bowed +beneath a weight of it that was nigh to crush her. But in her +extremity she betook herself to that refuge she had never +known to fail: it did not fail her now. She remembered the +words Ellen had been reading to her but that very morning, and +they came like the breath of heaven upon the fever of her soul + "Not my will, but thine be done." She strove and prayed to +say it, and not in vain; and after a little while she was able +to return to her seat. She felt that she had been shaken by a +tempest, but she was calmer now than before. + +Ellen was just as she had left her, and apparently just as far +from coming to any conclusion. Mrs. Montgomery was resolved to +let her take her way. Presently Ellen came over from the +counter with a large royal octavo Bible, heavy enough to be a +good lift for her. "Mamma," said she, laying it on her +mother's lap, and opening it, "what do you think of that? +isn't that splendid?" + +"A most beautiful page indeed; is this your choice, Ellen?" + +"Well, Mamma, I don't know; what do you think?" + +"I think it is rather inconveniently large and heavy for +everyday use. It is quite a weight upon my lap. I shouldn't +like to carry it in my hands long. You would want a little +table on purpose to hold it." + +"Well, that wouldn't do at all," said Ellen, laughing. "I +believe you are right, Mamma; I wonder I didn't think of it. I +might have known that myself." + +She took it back; and there followed another careful +examination of the whole stock; and then Ellen came to her +mother with a beautiful miniature edition, in two volumes, +gilt, and clasped, and very perfect in all respects, but of +exceeding small print. + +"I think I'll have this, Mamma," said she; "isn't it a beauty? +I could put it in my pocket, you know, and carry it anywhere, +with the greatest ease." + +"It would have one great objection to me," said Mrs. +Montgomery, "inasmuch as I cannot possibly see to read it." + +"Cannot you, Mamma? But I can read it perfectly." + +"Well, my dear, take it that is, if you will make up your +mind to put on spectacles before your time." + +"Spectacles, Mamma! I hope I shall never have to wear +spectacles." + +"What do you propose to do when your sight fails, if you shall +live so long?" + +"Well, Mamma, if it comes to that; but you don't advise me, +then, to take this little beauty?" + +"Judge for yourself; I think you are old enough." + +"I know what you think, though, Mamma, and I daresay you are +right, too; I won't take it, though it's a pity. Well, I must +look again." + +Mrs. Montgomery came to her help, for it was plain Ellen had +lost the power of judging amidst so many tempting objects. But +she presently simplified the matter by putting aside all that +were decidedly too large or too small, or of too fine print. +There remained three of moderate size and sufficiently large +type, but different binding. "Either of these, I think, will +answer your purpose nicely," said Mrs. Montgomery. + +"Then, Mamma, if you please, I will have the red one. I like +that best, because it will put me in mind of yours." + +Mrs. Montgomery could find no fault with this reason. She paid +for the red Bible, and directed it to be sent home. + +"Shan't I carry it, Mamma?" said Ellen. + +"No, you would find it in the way; we have several things to +do yet." + +"Have we, Mamma? I thought we only came to get a Bible." + +"That is enough for one day, I confess. I am a little afraid +your head will be turned, but I must run the risk of it. I +dare not lose the opportunity of this fine weather; I may not +have such another. I wish to have the comfort of thinking, +when I am away, that I have left you with everything necessary +to the keeping up of good habits everything that will make +them pleasant and easy. I wish you to be always neat, and +tidy, and industrious; depending upon others as little as +possible; and careful to improve yourself by every means, and +especially by writing to me. I will leave you no excuse, +Ellen, for failing in any of these duties. I trust you will +not disappoint me in a single particular." + +Ellen's heart was too full to speak. She again looked up +tearfully, and pressed her mother's hand. + +"I do not expect to be disappointed, love," returned Mrs. +Montgomery. + +They now entered a large fancy store. + +"What are we to get here, Mamma?" said Ellen. + +"A box to put your pens and paper in," said her mother, +smiling. + +"Oh, to be sure," said Ellen; "I had almost forgotten that." + +She quite forgot it a minute after. It was the first time she +had seen the inside of such a store, and the articles +displayed on every side completely bewitched her. From one +thing to another she went, admiring and wondering; in her +wildest dreams she had never imagined such beautiful things. +The store was fairyland. + +Mrs. Montgomery meanwhile attended to business. Having chosen +a neat little japanned dressing-box, perfectly plain, but well +supplied with everything a child could want in that line, she +called Ellen from the delightful journey of discovery she was +making round the store, and asked her what she thought of it. +"I think it's a little beauty," said Ellen; "but I never saw +such a place for beautiful things." + +"You think it will do, then?" said her mother. + +"For me, Mamma! You don't mean to give it to me? Oh, mother, +how good you are! But I know what is the best way to thank +you, and I'll do it. What a perfect little beauty! Mamma, I'm +too happy!" + +"I hope not," said her mother; "for you know I haven't got you +the box for your pens and paper yet." + +"Well, Mamma, I'll try and bear it," said Ellen, laughing. +"But do get me the plainest little thing in the world, for +you're giving me too much." + +Mrs. Montgomery asked to look at writing-desks, and was shown +to another part of the store for the purpose. + +"Mamma," said Ellen, in a low tone, as they went, "you're not +going to get me a writing-desk?" + +"Why, that is the best kind of box for holding writing +materials," said her mother, smiling; "don't you think so?" + +"I don't know what to say!" exclaimed Ellen. "I can't thank +you, Mamma; I haven't any words to do it. I think I shall go +crazy." + +She was truly overcome with the weight of happiness. Words +failed her, and tears came instead. + +From among a great many desks of all descriptions, Mrs. +Montgomery with some difficulty succeeded in choosing one to +her mind. It was of mahogany, not very large, but thoroughly +well made and finished, and very convenient and perfect in its +internal arrangements. Ellen was speechless; occasional looks +at her mother, and deep sighs, were all she had now to offer. +The desk was quite empty. + +"Ellen," said her mother, "do you remember the furniture of +Miss Allen's desk, that you were so pleased with a while ago?" + +"Perfectly, Mamma; I know all that was in it." + +"Well, then, you must prompt me if I forget anything. Your +desk will be furnished with everything really useful. Merely +showy matters we can dispense with. Now let us see here is a +great empty place that I think wants some paper to fill it. +Show me some of different sizes, if you please." + +The shopman obeyed, and Mrs. Montgomery stocked the desk well +with letter-paper, large and small. Ellen looked on in great +satisfaction. "That will do nicely," she said; "that large +paper will be beautiful whenever I am writing to you, Mamma, +you know; and the other will do for other times, when I +haven't so much to say; though I am sure I don't know who +there is in the world I should ever send letters to, except +you." + +"If there is nobody now, perhaps there will be at some future +time," replied her mother. "I hope I shall not always be your +only correspondent. Now, what next?" + +"Envelopes, Mamma?" + +"To be sure; I had forgotten them. Envelopes of both sizes to +match." + +"Because, Mamma, you know I might, and I certainly shall, want +to write upon the fourth page of my letter, and I couldn't do +it unless I had envelopes." + +A sufficient stock of envelopes was laid in. + +"Mamma," said Ellen, "what do you think of a little note- +paper?" + +"Who are the notes to be written to, Ellen?" said Mrs. +Montgomery smiling. + +"You needn't smile, Mamma; you know, as you said, if I don't +know now, perhaps I shall by-and-by. Miss Allen's desk had +note-paper that made me think of it." + +"So shall yours, daughter; while we are about it, we will do +the thing well. And your note-paper will keep quite safely in +this nice little place provided for it, even if you should not +want to use a sheet of it in half-a-dozen years." + +"How nice that is!" said Ellen, admiringly. + +"I suppose the note-paper must have envelopes too," said Mrs. +Montgomery. + +"To be sure, Mamma; I suppose so," said Ellen, smiling; "Miss +Allen's had." + +"Well, now we have got all the paper we want, I think," said +Mrs. Montgomery; "the next thing is ink or an inkstand, +rather." + +Different kinds were presented for her choice. + +"Oh, Mamma, that one won't do," said Ellen, anxiously; "you +know the desk will be knocking about in a trunk, and the ink +would run out, and spoil every thing. It should be one of +those that shut tight. I don't see the right kind here." + +The shopman brought one. + +"There, Mamma do you see?" said Ellen. "It shuts with a +spring, and nothing can possibly come out. Do you see, Mamma. +You can turn it topsy-turvy." + +"I see you are quite right, daughter; it seems I should get on +very ill without you to advise me. Fill the inkstand, if you +please." + +"Mamma, what shall I do when my ink is gone? that inkstand +will hold but a little, you know." + +"Your aunt will supply you, of course, my dear, when you are +out." + +"I'd rather take some of my own, by half," said Ellen. + +"You could not carry a bottle of ink in your desk without +great danger to every thing else in it. It would not do to +venture." + +"We have excellent ink-powder," said the shopman, "in small +packages, which can be very conveniently carried about. You +see, Maam, there is a compartment in the desk for such +things; and the ink is very easily made at any time." + +"Oh, that will do nicely," said Ellen, "that is just the +thing." + +"Now, what is to go in this other square place, opposite the +inkstand?" said Mrs. Montgomery. + +"That is the place for the box of lights, Mamma." + +"What sort of lights?" + +"For sealing letters, Mamma, you know. They are not like your +wax taper at all; they are little wax matches, that burn just +long enough to seal one or two letters; Miss Allen showed me +how she used them. Hers were in a nice little box, just like +the inkstand on the outside; and there was a place to light +the matches, and a place to set them in while they are +burning. There, Mamma, that's it," said Ellen, as the shopman +brought forth the article which she was describing, "that's +it exactly; and that will just fit. Now, Mamma, for the wax." + +"You want to seal your letter before you have written it," +said Mrs. Montgomery "we have not got the pens yet." + +"That's true, Mamma let us have the pens. And some quills +too, Mamma?" + +"Do you know how to make a pen, Ellen?" + +"No, Mamma, not yet; but I want to learn very much. Miss +Pichegru says that every lady ought to know how to make her +own pens." + +"Miss Pichegru is very right; but I think you are rather too +young to learn. However, we will try. Now, here are steel +points enough to last you a great while and as many quills +as it is needful you should cut up for one year at least; we +haven't a pen-handle yet." + +"Here, Mamma," said Ellen, holding out a plain ivory one, +"don't you like this? I think it is prettier than these that +are all cut and fussed, or those other gay ones either." + +"I think so too, Ellen; the plainer the prettier. Now, what +comes next?" + +"The knife, Mamma, to make the pens," said Ellen, smiling. + +"True, the knife. Let us see some of your best penknives. Now, +Ellen, choose. That one won't do, my dear; it should have two +blades a large as well as a small one. You know you want to +mend a pencil sometimes." + +"So I do, Mamma to be sure you're very right; here's a +nice one. Now, Mamma, the wax." + +"There is a box full choose your own colours." Seeing it was +likely to be a work of time, Mrs. Montgomery walked away to +another part of the store. When she returned, Ellen had made +up an assortment of the oddest colours she could find. + +"I won't have any red, Mamma, it is so common," she said. + +"I think it is the prettiest of all," said Mrs. Montgomery. + +"Do you, Mamma? then I will have a stick of red on purpose to +seal to you with." + +"And who do you intend shall have the benefit of the other +colours?" inquired her mother. + +"I declare, Mamma," said Ellen, laughing; "I never thought of +that; I am afraid they will have to go to you. You must not +mind, Mamma, if you get green, and blue, and yellow seals once +in a while." + +"I dare say I shall submit myself to it with a good grace, +said Mrs. Montgomery. "But come, my dear, have we got all that +we want? This desk has been very long in furnishing." + +"You haven't given me a seal yet, Mamma." + +"Seals! There are a variety before you; see if you can find +one that you like. By the way, you cannot seal a letter, can +you?" + +"Not yet, Mamma," said Ellen, smiling again; "that is another +of the things I have got to learn." + +"Then I think you had better have some wafers in the mean +time." + +While Ellen was picking out her seal, which took not a little +time, Mrs. Montgomery laid in a good supply of wafers of all +sorts; and then went on further to furnish the desk with an +ivory leaf-cutter, a paper-folder, a pounce-box, a ruler, and +a neat little silver pencil; also some drawing-pencils, India- +rubber, and sheets of drawing-paper. She took a sad pleasure +in adding everything she could think of that might be for +Ellen's future use or advantage; but as with her own hands she +placed in the desk one thing after another, the thought +crossed her mind, how Ellen would make drawings with those +very pencils, on those very sheets of paper, which her eyes +would never see! She turned away with a sigh, and receiving +Ellen's seal from her hand, put that also in its place. Ellen +had chosen one with her own name. + +"Will you send these things _at once?_" said Mrs. Montgomery; "I +particularly wish to have them at home as early in the day as +possible." + +The man promised. Mrs. Montgomery paid the bill, and she and +Ellen left the store. + +They walked a little way in silence. + +"I cannot thank you, Mamma," said Ellen. + +"It is not necessary, my dear child," said Mrs. Montgomery, +returning the pressure of her hand; "I know all that you would +say." + +There was as much sorrow as joy at that moment in the heart of +the joyfullest of the two. + +"Where are we going now, Mamma?" said Ellen again, after a +while. + +"I wished and intended to have gone to St. Clair and Fleury's, +to get you some merino and other things, but we have been +detained so long already that I think I had better go home. I +feel somewhat tired." + +"I am very sorry, dear Mamma," said Ellen; "I am afraid I kept +you too long about that desk." + +"You did not keep me, daughter, any longer than I chose to be +kept. But I think I will go home now, and take the chance of +another fine day for the merino." + + +CHAPTER IV. + +The Bitter-sweet of Life. + + +When dinner was over and the table cleared away, the mother +and daughter were left, as they always loved to be, alone. It +was late in the afternoon, and already somewhat dark, for +clouds had gathered over the beautiful sky of the morning, and +the wind, rising now and then, made its voice heard. Mrs. +Montgomery was lying on the sofa, as usual, seemingly at ease; +and Ellen was sitting on a little bench before the fire, very +much at _her_ ease, indeed, without any seeming about it. She +smiled as she met her mother's eyes. + +"You have made me very happy to-day, Mamma." + +"I am glad of it, my dear child. I hoped I should. I believe +the whole affair has given me as much pleasure, Ellen, as it +has you." + +There was a pause. + +"Mamma, I will take the greatest possible care of my new +treasures." + +"I know you will. If I had doubted it, Ellen, most assuredly I +should not have given them to you, sorry as I should have been +to leave you without them. So you see you have not established +a character for carefulness in vain." + +"And, Mamma, I hope you have not given them to me in vain, +either. I will try to use them in the way that I know you wish +me to; that will be the best way I can thank you." + +"Well, I have left you no excuse, Ellen. You know fully what I +wish you to do and to be; and when I am away I shall please +myself with thinking that my little daughter _is_ following her +mother's wishes; I shall believe so, Ellen. You will not let +me be disappointed?" + +"Oh no, Mamma," said Ellen, who was now in her mother's arms. + +"Well, my child," said Mrs. Montgomery, in a lighter tone, "my +gifts will serve as reminders for you if you are ever tempted +to forget my lessons. If you fail to send me letters, or if +those you send are not what they ought to be, I think the desk +will cry shame upon you. And if you ever go an hour with a +hole in your stocking, or a tear in your dress, or a string +off your petticoat, I hope the sight of your workbox will make +you blush." + +"Workbox, Mamma!" + +"Yes. Oh, I forgot you've not seen that." + +"No, Mamma what do you mean?" + +"Why, my dear, that was one of the things you most wanted, but +I thought it best not to overwhelm you quite this morning; so +while you were on an exploring expedition round the store, I +chose and furnished one for you." + +"Oh Mamma, Mamma!" said Ellen, getting up and clasping her +hands, "what shall I do? I don't know what to say; I can't say +anything. Mamma, it's too much." + +So it seemed, for Ellen sat down and began to cry. Her mother +silently reached out a hand to her, which she squeezed and +kissed with all the energy of gratitude, love, and sorrow; +till, gently drawn by the same hand, she was placed again in +her mother's arms and upon her bosom. And in that tried +resting-place she lay, calmed and quieted, till the shades of +afternoon deepened into evening, and evening into night, and +the light of the fire was all that was left to them. + +Though not a word had been spoken for a long time, Ellen was +not asleep; her eyes were fixed on the red glow of the coals +in the grate, and she was busily thinking, but not of them. +Many sober thoughts were passing through her little head, and +stirring her heart; a few were of her new possessions and +bright projects more of her mother. She was thinking how +very, very precious was the heart she could feel beating where +her cheek lay she thought it was greater happiness to lie +there than anything else in life could be she thought she +had rather even die so, on her mother's breast, than live long +without her in the world she felt that in earth or in heaven +there was nothing so dear. Suddenly she broke the silence. + +"Mamma, what does that mean, 'He that loveth father or mother +more than me, is not worthy of me?' " + +"It means just what it says. If you love anybody or anything +better than Jesus Christ, you cannot be one of his children." + +"But then, Mamma," said Ellen, raising her head, "how _can_ I be +one of his children? I do love you a great deal better: how +can I help it, Mamma?" + +"You cannot help it, I know, my dear," said Mrs. Montgomery, +with a sigh, "except by His grace, who has promised to change +the hearts of his people to take away the heart of stone, +and give them a heart of flesh." + +"But is mine a heart of stone, then, Mamma, because I cannot +help loving you best?" + +"Not to me, dear Ellen," replied Mrs. Montgomery, pressing +closer the little form that lay in her arms; "I have never +found it so. But yet I know that the Lord Jesus is far, far +more worthy of your affection than I am; and if your heart +were not hardened by sin, you would see him so; it is only +because you do not know him that you love me better. Pray, +pray, my dear child, that he would take away the power of sin, +and show you himself; that is all that is wanting." + +"I will, Mamma," said Ellen, tearfully. "Oh, Mamma, what shall +I do without you?" + +Alas! Mrs. Montgomery's heart echoed the question she had no +answer. + +"Mamma," said Ellen, after a few minutes, "can I have no true +love to Him at all unless I love him _best?_" + +"I dare not say that you can," answered her mother, seriously. + +"Mamma," said Ellen, after a little, again raising her head, +and looking her mother full in the face, as if willing to +apply the severest test to this hard doctrine, and speaking +with an indescribable expression, "do _you_ love him _better than +you do me?_" + +She knew her mother loved the Saviour, but she thought it +scarcely possible that herself could have but the second place +in her heart; she ventured a bold question, to prove whether +her mother's practice would not contradict her theory. + +But Mrs. Montgomery answered steadily, "I do, my daughter;" +and, with a gush of tears, Ellen sank her head again upon her +bosom. She had no more to say; her mouth was stopped for ever +as to the _right_ of the matter, though she still thought it an +impossible duty in her own particular case. + +"I do, indeed, my daughter," repeated Mrs. Montgomery; "that +does not make my love to you the less, but the more, Ellen." + +"Oh, Mamma, Mamma!" said Ellen, clinging to her, "I wish you +would teach me! I have only you, and I am going to lose you. +What shall I do, Mamma?" + +With a voice that strove to be calm, Mrs. Montgomery answered, +" 'I love them that love me, and they that seek me early shall +find me.' " And after a minute or two, she added, "He who says +this has promised, too, that he will 'gather the lambs with +his arm, and carry them in his bosom.' " + +The words fell soothingly on Ellen's ear, and the slight +tremor in the voice reminded her also that her mother must not +be agitated. She checked herself instantly, and soon lay as +before, quiet and still, on her mother's bosom, with her eyes +fixed on the fire; and Mrs. Montgomery did not know that when +she now and then pressed a kiss upon the forehead that lay so +near her lips, it every time brought the water to Ellen's +eyes, and a throb to her heart. But after some half or three- +quarters of an hour had passed away, a sudden knock at the +door found both mother and daughter asleep; it had to be +repeated once or twice before the knocker could gain +attention. + +"What is that, Mamma?" said Ellen, starting up. + +"Somebody at the door. Open it quickly, love." + +Ellen did so, and found a man standing there, with his arms +rather full of sundry packages. + +"Oh, Mamma, my things!" cried Ellen, clapping her hands; "here +they are!" + +The man placed his burden on the table and withdrew. + +"Oh, Mamma, I am so glad they are come! Now, if I only had a +light this is my desk, I know, for it's the largest; and I +think this is my dressing-box, as well as I can tell by +feeling yes, it is, here's the handle on top; and this is my +dear workbox not so big as the desk, nor so little as the +dressing-box. Oh, Mamma, mayn't I ring for a light?" + +There was no need, for a servant just then entered, bringing +the wished-for candles, and the not-wished-for _tea_. Ellen was +capering about in the most fantastic style, but suddenly +stopped short at sight of the tea things, and looked very +grave. "Well, Mamma, I'll tell you what I'll do," she said, +after a pause of consideration; "I'll make the tea the first +thing, before I untie a single knot; won't that be best, +Mamma? Because I know if I once begin to look, I shan't want +to stop. Don't you think that is wise, Mamma? + +But alas! the fire had got very low; there was no making the +tea quickly; and the toast was a work of time. And when all +was over at length, it was then too late for Ellen to begin to +undo packages. She struggled with impatience a minute or two, +and then gave up the point very gracefully, and went to bed. + +She had a fine opportunity the next day to make up for the +evening's disappointment. It was cloudy and stormy; going out +was not to be thought of, and it was very unlikely that +anybody would come in. Ellen joyfully allotted the whole +morning to the examination and trial of her new possessions; +and as soon as breakfast was over and the room clear, she set +about it. She first went through the desk and everything in +it, making a running commentary on the excellence, fitness, +and beauty of all it contained; then the dressing-box received +a share, but a much smaller share, of attention; and lastly, +with fingers trembling with eagerness, she untied the pack- +thread that was wound round the workbox, and slowly took off +cover after cover; she almost screamed when the last was +removed. The box was of satinwood, beautifully finished, and +lined with crimson silk; and Mrs. Montgomery had taken good +care it should want nothing that Ellen might need to keep her +clothes in perfect order. + +"Oh, Mamma, how beautiful! Oh, Mamma, how good you are! Mamma, +I promise you I'll never be a slattern. Here is more cotton +than I can use up in a great while every number, I do think; +and needles, oh, the needles! what a parcel of them! and, +Mamma, what a lovely scissors! Did you choose it, Mamma, or +did it belong to the box?" + +"I chose it." + +"I might have guessed it, Mamma, it's just like you. And +here's a thimble fits me exactly! and an emery-bag! how +pretty! and a bodkin! this is a great nicer than yours, +Mamma yours is decidedly the worse for wear; and what's +this? oh, to make eyelet-holes with, I know. And oh, Mamma! +here is almost everything, I think here are tapes, and +buttons, and hooks and eyes, and darning-cotton, and silk- +winders, and pins, and all sorts of things. What's this for, +Mamma?" + +"That's a scissors to cut button-holes with. Try it on that +piece of paper that lies by you, and you will see how it +works." + +"Oh, I see!" said Ellen, "how very nice that is! Well, I shall +take great pains now to make my button-holes very handsomely." + +One survey of her riches could by no means satisfy Ellen. For +some time she pleased herself with going over and over the +contents of the box, finding each time something new to like. +At length she closed it, and keeping it still in her lap, sat +awhile looking thoughtfully into the fire; till, turning +towards her mother, she met her gaze, fixed mournfully, almost +tearfully, on herself. The box was instantly shoved aside, and +getting up and bursting into tears, Ellen went to her. + +"Oh, dear mother," she said, "I wish they were all back in the +store, if I could only keep you!" + +Mrs. Montgomery answered only by folding her to her heart. + +"Is there no help for it, Mamma?" + +"There is none. We know that all things shall work together +for good to them that love God." + +"Then it will be all good for you, Mamma but what will it be +for me?" And Ellen sobbed bitterly. + +"It will be all well, my precious child, I doubt not. I do not +doubt it, Ellen. Do _you_ not doubt it either, love; but from +the hand that wounds, seek the healing. He wounds that he _may_ +heal. He does not afflict willingly. Perhaps he sees, Ellen, +that you never would seek him while you had me to cling to." + +Ellen clung to her at that moment yet not more than her +mother clung to her. + +"How happy we were, Mamma, only a year ago even a month." + +"We have no continuing city here," answered her mother, with a +sigh. "But there is a home, Ellen, where changes do not come; +and they that are once gathered there are parted no more for +ever; and all tears are wiped from their eyes. I believe I am +going fast to that home; and now my greatest concern is, that +my little Ellen my precious baby may follow me, and come +there too." + +No more was said, nor could be said, till the sound of the +doctor's steps upon the stair obliged each of them to assume +an appearance of composure as speedily as possible. But they +could not succeed perfectly enough to blind him. He did not +seem very well satisfied, and told Ellen he believed he should +have to get another nurse he was afraid she didn't obey +orders. + +While the doctor was there, Ellen's Bible was brought in; and +no sooner was he gone than it underwent as thorough an +examination as the boxes had received. Ellen went over every +part of it with the same great care and satisfaction but +mixed with a different feeling. The words that caught her eye +as she turned over the leaves seemed to echo what her mother +had been saying to her. It began to grow dear already. After a +little she rose and brought it to the sofa. + +"Are you satisfied with it, Ellen?" + +"Oh, yes, Mamma; it is perfectly beautiful, outside and +inside. Now, Mamma, will you please write my name in this +precious book my name, and anything else you please, mother? +I'll bring you my new pen to write it with, and I've got ink +here shall I?" + +She brought it; and Mrs. Montgomery wrote Ellen's name and the +date of the gift. The pen played a moment in her fingers, and +then she wrote below the date + + +"I love them that love me; and they that seek me early shall +find me." + + +This was for Ellen; but the next words were not for her; what +made her write them? + + +"I will be a God to thee, and to thy seed after thee." + + +They were written almost unconsciously; and as, if bowed by an +unseen force, Mrs. Montgomery's head sank upon the open page, +and her whole soul went up with her petition: + + +"Let these words be my memorial that I have trusted in thee. +And oh! when these miserable lips are silent for ever, +remember the word unto thy servant, upon which thou hast +caused me to hope; and be unto my little one all thou hast +been to me! Unto thee I lift up mine eyes, O thou that +dwellest in the heavens!" + + +She raised her face from the book, closed it, and gave it +silently to Ellen. Ellen had noticed her action, but had no +suspicion of the cause; she supposed that one of her mother's +frequent feelings of weakness or sickness had made her lean +her head upon the Bible, and she thought no more about it. +However, Ellen felt that she wanted no more of her boxes that +day. She took her old place by the side of her mother's sofa, +with her head upon her mother's hand, and an expression of +quiet sorrow in her face that it had not worn for several +days. + + +CHAPTER V. + +A peep into the Wide World. + + +The next day would not do for the intended shopping, nor the +next. The third day was fine, though cool and windy. + +"Do you think you can venture out to-day, Mamma?" said Ellen. + +"I am afraid not. I do not feel quite equal to it, and the +wind is a great deal too high for me, besides." + +"Well," said Ellen, in the tone of one who is making up her +mind to do something, "we shall have a fine day by-and-by, I +suppose, if we wait long enough; we had to wait a great deal +while for our first shopping-day. I wish such another would +come round." + +"But the misfortune is," said her mother, "that we cannot +afford to wait. November will soon be here, and your clothes +may be suddenly wanted before they are ready, if we do not +bestir ourselves. And Miss Rice is coming in a few days I +ought to have the merino ready for her." + +"What will you do, Mamma?" + +"I do not know, indeed, Ellen; I am greatly at a loss." + +"Couldn't papa get the stuffs for you, Mamma?" + +"No, he's too busy; and besides, he doesn't know about +shopping for me." + +"Well, what will you do, Mamma? Is there nobody else you could +ask to get the things for you? Mrs. Foster would do it, +Mamma." + +"I know she would, and I should ask her without any +difficulty, but she is confined to her room with a cold. I see +nothing for it but to be patient and let things take their +course though, if a favourable opportunity should offer, you +would have to go, clothes or no clothes; it would not do to +lose the chance of a good escort." + +And Mrs. Montgomery's face showed that this possibility of +Ellen's going unprovided gave her some uneasiness. Ellen +observed it. + +"Never mind me, dearest mother; don't be in the least worried +about my clothes. You don't know how little I think of them or +care for them. It's no matter at all whether I have them or +not." + +Mrs. Montgomery smiled, and passed her hand fondly over her +little daughter's head, but presently resumed her anxious look +out of the window. + +"Mamma!" exclaimed Ellen, suddenly starting up, "a bright +thought has just come into my head! _I'll_ do it for you, +Mamma!" + +"Do what?" + +"I'll get the merino and things for you, Mamma. You needn't +smile I will, indeed, if you let me." + +"My dear Ellen," said her mother, "I don't doubt you would, if +goodwill only were wanting; but a great deal of skill and +experience is necessary for a shopper, and what would you do +without either?" + +"But see, Mamma," pursued Ellen, eagerly, "I'll tell you how +I'll manage, and I know I can manage very well. You tell me +exactly what colour of merino you want, and give me a little +piece to show me how fine it should be, and tell me what price +you wish to give, and then I'll go to the store and ask them +to show me different pieces, you know, and if I see any I +think you would like, I'll ask them to give me a little bit of +it to show you; and then I'll bring it home, and if you like +it, you can give me the money, and tell me how many yards you +want, and I can go back to the store and get it. Why can't I, +Mamma?" + +"Perhaps you could; but my dear child, I am afraid you +wouldn't like the business." + +"Yes, I should; indeed, Mamma, I should like it dearly, if I +could help you so. Will you let me try, Mamma?" + +"I don't like, my child, to venture you alone on such an +errand, among crowds of people; I should be uneasy about you." + +"Dear Mamma, what would the crowds of people do to me? I am +not a bit afraid. You know, Mamma, I have often taken walks +alone that's nothing new; and what harm should come to me +while I am in the store? You needn't be the least uneasy about +me; may I go?" + +Mrs. Montgomery smiled, but was silent. + +"May I go, Mamma?" repeated Ellen. "Let me go at least and try +what I can do. What do you say, Mamma?" + +"I don't know what to say, my daughter, but I am in difficulty +on either hand. I will let you go and see what you can do. It +would be a great relief to me to get this merino by any +means." + +"Then shall I go right away, Mamma?" + +"As well now as ever. _You_ are not afraid of the wind?" + +"I should think not," said Ellen; and away she scampered +upstairs to get ready. With eager haste she dressed herself; +then with great care and particularity took her mother's +instructions as to the article wanted; and finally set out, +sensible that a great trust was reposed in her, and feeling +busy and important accordingly. But at the very bottom of +Ellen's heart there was a little secret doubtfulness +respecting her undertaking. She hardly knew it was there, but +then she couldn't tell what it was that made her fingers so +inclined to be tremulous while she was dressing, and that made +her heart beat quicker than it ought, or than was pleasant, +and one of her cheeks so much hotter than the other. However, +she set forth upon her errand with a very brisk step, which +she kept up till, on turning a corner, she came in sight of +the place she was going to. Without thinking much about it, +Ellen had directed her steps to St.Clair and Fleury's. It was +one of the largest and best stores in the city, and the one +she knew where her mother generally made her purchases; and it +did not occur to her that it might not be the best for her +purpose on this occasion. But her steps slackened as soon as +she came in sight of it, and continued to slacken as she drew +nearer, and she went up the broad flight of marble steps in +front of the store, very slowly indeed, though they were +exceeding low and easy. Pleasure was not certainly the +uppermost feeling in her mind now; yet she never thought of +turning back. She knew that if she could succeed in the object +of her mission, her mother would be relieved from some +anxiety; that was enough; she was bent on accomplishing it. + +Timidly she entered the large hall of entrance. It was full of +people, and the buzz of business was heard on all sides. Ellen +had for some time past seldom gone a-shopping with her mother, +and had never been in this store but once or twice before. She +had not the remotest idea where, or in what apartment of the +building, the merino counter was situated, and she could see +no one to speak to. She stood irresolute in the middle of the +floor. Everybody seemed to be busily engaged with somebody +else; and whenever an opening on one side or another appeared +to promise her an opportunity, it was sure to be filled up +before she could reach it, and, disappointed and abashed, she +would return to her old station in the middle of the floor. +Clerks frequently passed her, crossing the store in all +directions, but they were always bustling along in a great +hurry of business; they did not seem to notice her at all, and +were gone before poor Ellen could get her mouth open to speak +to them. She knew well enough now, poor child! what it was +that made her cheeks burn as they did, and her heart beat as +if it would burst its bounds. She felt confused, and almost +confounded by the incessant hum of voices, and moving crowd of +strange people all around her, while her little figure stood +alone and unnoticed in the midst of them; and there seemed no +prospect that she would be able to gain the ear or the eye of +a single person. Once she determined to accost a man she saw +advancing toward her from a distance, and actually made up to +him for the purpose, but with a hurried bow, and "I beg your +pardon, Miss!" he brushed past. Ellen almost burst into tears. +She longed to turn and run out of the store, but a faint hope +remaining, and an unwillingness to give up her undertaking, +kept her fast. At length one of the clerks in the desk +observed her, and remarked to Mr. St. Clair, who stood by, +"There is a little girl, Sir, who seems to be looking for +something, or waiting for somebody; she has been standing +there a good while." Mr. St. Clair, upon this, advanced to +poor Ellen's relief. + +"What do you wish, miss?" he said. + +But Ellen had been so long preparing sentences, trying to +utter them, and failing in the attempt, that now, when an +opportunity to speak and be heard was given her, the power of +speech seemed to be gone. + +"Do you wish anything, Miss?" inquired Mr. St. Clair again. + +"Mother sent me," stammered Ellen "I wish, if you please, +Sir Mamma wished me to look at the merinoes, Sir, if you +please." + +"Is your Mamma in the store?" + +"No, Sir," said Ellen, "she is ill, and cannot come out, and +she sent me to look at merinoes for her, if you please, Sir." + +"Here, Saunders," said Mr. St. Clair, "show this young lady +the merinoes." + +Mr. Saunders made his appearance from among a little group of +clerks, with whom he had been indulging in a few jokes by way +of relief from the tedium of business. "Come this way," he +said to Ellen; and sauntering before her, with a rather +dissatisfied air, led the way out of the entrance-hall into +another and much larger apartment. There were plenty of people +here too, and just as busy as those they had quitted. Mr. +Saunders having brought Ellen to the merino counter, placed +himself behind it, and leaning over it and fixing his eyes +carelessly upon her, asked what she wanted to look at. His +tone and manner struck Ellen most unpleasantly, and made her +again wish herself out of the store. He was a tall, lank young +man, with a quantity of fair hair combed down on each side of +his face, a slovenly exterior, and the most disagreeable pair +of eyes, Ellen thought, she had ever beheld. She could not +bear to meet them, and cast down her own. Their look was bold, +ill-bred, and ill-humoured; and Ellen felt, though she +couldn't have told why, that she need not expect either +kindness or politeness from him. + +"What do you want to see, little one?" inquired this +gentleman, as if he had a business on hand he would like to be +rid of. Ellen heartily wished he was rid of it, and she too. + +"Merinoes, if you please," she answered, without looking up. + +"Well, what kind of merinoes? Here are all sorts and +descriptions of merinoes, and I can't pull them all down, you +know, for you to look at. What kind do you want?" + +"I don't know without looking," said Ellen. "Won't you please +to show me some?" + +He tossed down several pieces upon the counter, and tumbled +them about before her. + +"There," said he, "is that anything like what you want? +There's a pink one and there's a blue one and there's a +green one. Is that the kind?" + +"This is the kind," said Ellen; "but this isn't the colour I +want." + +"What colour do you want?" + +"Something dark, if you please." + +"Well, there, that green's dark; won't that do? See, that +would make up very pretty for you." + +"No," said Ellen, "Mamma don't like green." + +"Why don't she come and choose her stuffs herself, then? What +colour does she like?" + +"Dark blue, or dark brown, or a nice gray would do," said +Ellen, "if it is fine enough." + +" 'Dark blue,' or 'dark brown,' or a 'nice gray,' eh? Well, +she's pretty easy to suit. A dark blue I've showed you already + what's the matter with that?" + +"It isn't dark enough," said Ellen. + +"Well," said he, discontentedly, pulling down another piece, +"how'll that do? That's dark enough." + +It was a fine and beautiful piece, very different from those +he had showed her first. Even Ellen could see that, and +fumbling for her little pattern of merino, she compared it +with the piece. They agreed perfectly as to fineness. + +"What is the price of this?" she asked, with trembling hope +that she was going to be rewarded by success for all the +trouble of her enterprise. + +"Two dollars a yard." + +Her hopes and countenance fell together. "That's too high," +she said, with a sigh. + +"Then take this other blue; come it's a great deal prettier +than that dark one, and not so dear; and I know your mother +will like it better." + +Ellen's cheeks were tingling and her heart throbbing, but she +couldn't bear to give up. + +"Would you be so good as to show me some gray?" + +He slowly and ill-humouredly complied, and took down an +excellent piece of dark gray, which Ellen fell in love with at +once; but she was again disappointed; it was fourteen +shillings. + +"Well, if you won't take that, take something else," said the +man; "you can't have everything at once; if you will have +cheap goods, of course you can't have the same quality that +you like; but now, here's this other blue, only twelve +shillings, and I'll let you have it for ten, if you'll take +it." + +"No, it is too light and too coarse," said Ellen; "Mamma +wouldn't like it." + +"Let me see," said he, seizing her pattern, and pretending to +compare it; "it's quite as fine as this, if that's all you +want." + +"Could you," said Ellen, timidly, "give me a little bit of +this gray to show Mamma!" + +"Oh, no!" said he, impatiently tossing over the cloths and +throwing Ellen's pattern on the floor; "we can't cut up our +goods; if people don't choose to buy of us, they may go +somewhere else; and if you cannot decide upon anything, I must +go and attend to those that can. I can't wait here all day." + +"What's the matter, Saunders?" said one of his brother clerks, +passing him. + +"Why, I've been here this half hour showing cloths to a child +that doesn't know merino from a sheep's back," said he, +laughing. And, some other customers coming up at the moment, +he was as good as his word, and left Ellen, to attend to them. + +Ellen stood a moment stock still, just where he had left her, +struggling with her feelings of mortification; she could not +endure to let them be seen. Her face was on fire; her head was +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, +who was in a great passion; "I saw the whole matter with my +own eyes. You are a disgrace to the store, Sir, and deserve to +be sent out of it, which you are like enough to be." + +"I really thought, Sir," said Mr. Saunders, smoothly for he +knew the old gentleman, and knew very well he was a person +that must not be offended "I really thought I was not +aware, Sir, that the young lady had any occasion for my +services." + +"Well, show your wares, Sir, and hold your tongue. Now, my +dear, what did you want?" + +"I wanted a little bit of this gray merino, Sir, to show to +Mamma. I couldn't buy it, you know, Sir, until I found out +whether she would like it." + +"Cut a piece, Sir, without any words," said the gentleman. Mr. +Saunders obeyed. + +"Did you like this best?" pursued the old gentleman. + +"I like this dark blue very much, Sir, and I thought Mamma +would; but it's too high." + +"How much is it?" inquired he. + +"Fourteen shillings," replied Mr. Saunders. + +"He said it was two dollars!" exclaimed Ellen. + +"I beg pardon," said the crest-fallen Mr. Saunders "the +young lady mistook me; I was speaking of another piece when I +said two dollars." + +"He said this was two dollars, and the gray was fourteen +shillings," said Ellen. + +"Is the gray fourteen shillings," inquired the old gentleman. + +"I think not, Sir," answered Mr. Saunders "I believe not, +Sir, I think it's only twelve I'll inquire, if you please, +Sir." + +"No, no," said the old gentleman, "I know it was only twelve +I know your tricks, Sir. Cut a piece off the blue. Now, my +dear, are there any more pieces of which you would like to +take patterns, to show your mother?" + +"No, Sir," said the overjoyed Ellen; "I am sure she will like +one of these." + +"Now, shall we go, then?" + +"If you please, Sir," said Ellen, "I should like to have my +bit of merino that I brought from home; Mamma wanted me to +bring it back again." + +"Where is it?" + +"That gentleman threw it on the floor." + +"Do you hear, Sir?" said the old gentleman; "find it +directly." + +Mr. Saunders found and delivered it, after stooping in search +of it till he was very red in the face; and he was left, +wishing heartily that he had some safe means of revenge, and +obliged to come to the conclusion that none was within his +reach, and that he must stomach his indignity in the best +manner he could. But Ellen and her protector went forth most +joyously together from the store. + +"Do you live far from here?" asked the old gentleman. + +"Oh, no, Sir," said Ellen, "not very; it's only at Green's +Hotel, in Southing-street." + +"I'll go with you," said he; "and when your mother has decided +which merino she will have, we'll come right back and get it. +I do not want to trust you again to the mercy of that saucy +clerk." + +"Oh, thank you, Sir!" said Ellen, "that is just what I was +afraid of. But I shall be giving you a great deal of trouble, +Sir," she added, in another tone. + +"No, you won't," said the old gentleman; "I can't be troubled, +so you needn't say anything about that." + +They went gaily along Ellen's heart about five times as +light as the one with which she had travelled that very road a +little while before. Her old friend was in a very cheerful +mood, too, for he assured Ellen, laughingly, that it was of no +manner of use for her to be in a hurry, for he could not +possibly set off and skip to Green's Hotel, as she seemed +inclined to do. They got there at last. Ellen showed the old +gentleman into the parlour, and ran up stairs in great haste +to her mother. But in a few minutes she came down again, with +a very April face, for smiles were playing in every feature, +while the tears were yet wet upon her cheeks. + +"Mamma hopes you'll take the trouble, Sir, to come up stairs," +she said, seizing his hand; "she wants to thank you herself, +Sir." + +"It is not necessary," said the old gentleman "it is not +necessary at all;" but he followed his little conductor, +nevertheless, to the door of her mother's room, into which she +ushered him with great satisfaction. + +Mrs. Montgomery was looking very ill he saw that at a +glance. She rose from her sofa, and extending her hand, +thanked him, with glistening eyes, for his kindness to her +child. + +"I don't deserve any thanks, Maam," said the old gentleman; +"I suppose my little friend has told you what made us +acquainted?" + +"She gave me a very short account of it," said Mrs. +Montgomery. + +"She was very disagreeably tried," said the old gentleman. "I +presume you do not need to be told, Maam, that her behaviour +was such as would have become any years. I assure you, Maam, +if I had had no kindness in my composition to feel for the +_child_, my honour as a gentleman would have made me interfere +for the _lady_." + +Mrs. Montgomery smiled, but looked through glistening eyes +again on Ellen. "I am _very_ glad to hear it," she replied. "I +was very far from thinking, when I permitted her to go on this +errand, that I was exposing her to anything more serious than +the annoyance a timid child would feel at having to transact +business with strangers." + +"I suppose not," said the gentleman; "but it isn't a sort of +thing that should be often done. There are all sorts of people +in this world, and a little one alone in a crowd is in danger +of being trampled upon." + +Mrs. Montgomery's heart answered this with an involuntary +pang. He saw the shade that passed over her face, as she said +sadly + +"I know it, Sir; and it was with strong unwillingness that I +allowed Ellen this morning to do as she had proposed; but in +truth I was but making a choice between difficulties. I am +very sorry I chose as I did. If you are a father, Sir, you +know better than I can tell you, how grateful I am for your +kind interference." + +"Say nothing about that, Maam; the less the better. I am an +old man, and not good for much now, except to please young +people. I think myself best off when I have the best chance to +do that. So if you will be so good as to choose that merino, +and let Miss Ellen and me go and despatch our business, you +will be conferring, and not receiving, a favour. And any other +errand that you please to intrust her with, I'll undertake to +see her safe through." + +His look and manner obliged Mrs. Montgomery to take him at his +word. A very short examination of Ellen's patterns ended in +favour of the gray merino; and Ellen was commissioned, not +only to get and pay for this, but also to choose a dark dress +of the same stuff, and enough of a certain article called +nankeen for a coat; Mrs. Montgomery truly opining that the old +gentleman's care would do more than see her scathless that +it would have some regard to the justness and prudence of her +purchases. + +In great glee Ellen set forth again with her new old friend. +Her hand was fast in his, and her tongue ran very freely, for +her heart was completely opened to him. He seemed as pleased +to listen as she was to talk; and by little and little Ellen +told him all her history the troubles that had come upon her +in consequence of her mother's illness, and her intended +journey and prospects. + +That was a happy day to Ellen. They returned to St. Clair and +Fleury's bought the gray merino and the nankeen, and a dark +brown merino for a dress. + +"Do you want only one of these?" asked the old gentleman. + +"Mamma said only one," said Ellen; "that will last me all the +winter." + +"Well," said he, "I think two will be better. Let us have +another off the same piece, Mr. Shopman." + +"But I am afraid Mamma won't like it, Sir," said Ellen, +gently. + +"Pooh, pooh," said he, "your mother has nothing to do with +this; this is my affair." He paid for it accordingly. "Now, +Miss Ellen," said he, when they left the store, "have you got +anything in the shape of a good warm winter bonnet? for it's +precious cold up there in Thirlwall; your pasteboard things +won't do; if you don't take good care of your ears, you will +lose them some fine frosty day. You must quilt and pad, and +all sorts of things, to keep alive and comfortable. So you +haven't a hood, eh? Do you think you and I could make out to +choose one that your mother would think wasn't quite a fright! +Come this way, and let us see. If she don't like it, she can +give it away, you know." + +He led the delighted Ellen into a milliner's shop, and after +turning over a great many different articles chose her a nice +warm hood, or quilted bonnet. It was of dark blue silk, well +made and pretty. He saw with great satisfaction that it fitted +Ellen well, and would protect her ears nicely; and having paid +for it, and ordered it home, he and Ellen sallied forth into +the street again. But he wouldn't let her thank him. "It is +just the very thing I wanted, Sir," said Ellen; "Mamma was +speaking about it the other day, and she did not see how I was +ever to get one, because she did not feel at all able to go +out, and I could not get one myself; I know she'll like it +very much." + +"Would you rather have something for yourself or your mother, +Ellen, if you could choose, and have but one?" + +"Oh, for Mamma, Sir," said Ellen "a great deal!" + +"Come in here," said he; "let us see if we can find anything +she would like." + +It was a grocery store. After looking about a little, the old +gentleman ordered sundry pounds of figs and white grapes to be +packed up in papers; and being now very near home, he took one +parcel and Ellen the other, till they came to the door of +Green's Hotel, where he committed both to her care. + +"Won't you come in, Sir?" said Ellen. + +"No," said he, "I can't this time I must go home to dinner." + +"And shan't I see you any more, Sir?" said Ellen, a shade +coming over her face, which a minute before had been quite +joyous. + +"Well, I don't know," said he, kindly "I hope you will. You +shall hear from me again at any rate, I promise you. We've +spent one pleasant morning together, haven't we? Good-bye, +good-bye." + +Ellen's hands were full, but the old gentleman took them in +both his, packages and all, and shook them after a fashion, +and again bidding her good-bye, walked away down the street. + +The next morning Ellen and her mother were sitting quietly +together, and Ellen had not finished her accustomed reading, +when there came a knock at the door. "My old gentleman!" cried +Ellen, as she sprung to open it. No there was no old +gentleman, but a black man with a brace of beautiful woodcocks +in his hand. He bowed very civilly, and said he had been +ordered to leave the birds with Miss Montgomery. Ellen, in +surprise, took them from him, and likewise a note which he +delivered into her hand. Ellen asked from whom the birds came, +but with another polite bow the man said the note would inform +her, and went away. In great curiosity she carried them and +the note to her mother, to whom the latter was directed. It +read thus + + +"Will Mrs. Montgomery permit an old man to please himself in +his own way, by showing his regard for her little daughter, +and not feel that he is taking a liberty? The birds are _for +Miss Ellen_." + + +"Oh, Mamma!" exclaimed Ellen, jumping with delight, "did you +ever see such a dear old gentleman? Now I know what he meant +yesterday, when he asked me if I would rather have something +for myself or for you. How kind he is! to do just the very +thing for me that he knows would give me the most pleasure! +Now, Mamma, these birds are mine, you know, and I give them to +you. You must pay me a kiss for them, Mamma; they are worth +that. Aren't they beauties?" + +"They are very fine, indeed," said Mrs. Montgomery; "this is +just the season for woodcock, and these are in beautiful +condition." + +"Do you like woodcocks, Mamma?" + +"Yes, very much." + +"Oh, how glad I am!" said Ellen. "I'll ask Sam to have them +done very nicely for you, and then you will enjoy them so +much." + +The waiter was called, and instructed accordingly, and to him +the birds were committed, to be delivered to the care of the +cook. + +"Now, Mamma," said Ellen, "I think these birds have made me +happy for all day." + +"Then I hope, daughter, they will make you busy for all day. +You have ruffles to hem, and the skirts of your dresses to +make we need not wait for Miss Rice to do that; and when she +comes, you will have to help her, for I can do little. You +can't be too industrious." + +"Well, Mamma, I am as willing as can be." + +This was the beginning of a pleasant two weeks to Ellen +weeks to which she often looked back afterwards, so quietly +and swiftly the days fled away, in busy occupation and sweet +intercourse with her mother. The passions, which were apt +enough to rise in Ellen's mind upon occasions, were, for the +present, kept effectually in check. She could not forget that +her days with her mother would very soon be at an end, for a +long time at least; and this consciousness, always present to +her mind, forbade even the wish to do anything that might +grieve or disturb her. Love and tenderness had absolute rule +for the time, and even had power to overcome the sorrowful +thoughts that would often rise; so that in spite of them peace +reigned. And perhaps both mother and daughter enjoyed this +interval the more keenly because they knew that sorrow was at +hand. + +All this while there was scarcely a day that the old +gentleman's servant did not knock at their door, bearing a +present of game. The second time he came with some fine larks; +next was a superb grouse; then woodcock again. Curiosity +strove with astonishment and gratitude in Ellen's mind. + +"Mamma," she said, after she had admired the grouse for five +minutes, "I cannot rest without finding out who this old +gentleman is." + +"I am sorry for that," replied Mrs. Montgomery, gravely, "for +I see no possible way of your doing it." + +"Why, Mamma, couldn't I ask the man that brings the birds what +his name is? He must know it." + +"Certainly not; it would be very dishonourable." + +"Would it, Mamma? why?" + +"This old gentleman has not chosen to tell you his name; he +wrote his note without signing it, and his man has obviously +been instructed not to disclose it. Don't you remember, he did +not tell it when you asked him, the first time he came? Now +this shows the old gentleman wishes to keep it secret, and to +try to find it out in any way would be a very unworthy return +for his kindness." + +"Yes, it wouldn't be doing as I would be done by, to be sure; +but would it be _dishonourable_, Mamma?" + +"Very. It is very dishonourable to try to find out that about +other people which does not concern you, and which they wish +to keep from you. Remember that, my dear daughter." + +"I will, Mamma. I'll never do it, I promise you." + +"Even in talking with people, if you discern in them any +unwillingness to speak upon a subject, avoid it immediately, +provided, of course, that some higher interest do not oblige +you to go on. That is true politeness, and true kindness, +which are nearly the same; and _not_ to do so, I assure you, +Ellen, proves one wanting in true honour." + +"Well, Mamma, I don't care what his name is at least I won't +try to find out; but it does worry me that I cannot thank him. +I wish he knew how much I feel obliged to him." + +"Very well; write him and tell him so." + +"Mamma!" said Ellen, opening her eyes very wide "can I? +would you?" + +"Certainly if you like. It would be very proper." + +"Then I will! I declare that is a good notion. I'll do it the +first thing, and then I can give it to that man if he comes +to-morrow, as I suppose he will. Mamma," said she, on opening +her desk, "how funny! don't you remember you wondered who I +was going to write notes to? Here is one now, Mamma; it is +very lucky I have got note-paper." + +More than one sheet of it was ruined before Ellen had +satisfied herself with what she wrote. It was a full hour from +the time she began when she brought the following note for her +mother's inspection: + + +"Ellen Montgomery does not know how to thank the old gentleman +who is so kind to her. Mamma enjoys the birds very much, and I +think I do more; for I have the double pleasure of giving them +to Mamma, and of eating them afterwards; but your kindness is +the best of all. I can't tell you how much I am obliged to +you, Sir, but I will always love you for all you have done for +me. + +"ELLEN MONTGOMERY." + + +This note Mrs. Montgomery approved; and Ellen having, with +great care and great satisfaction, enclosed it in an envelope, +succeeded in sealing it according to rule, and very well. Mrs. +Montgomery laughed when she saw the direction, but let it go. +Without consulting her, Ellen had written on the outside, "To +the old gentleman." She sent it the next morning by the hands +of the same servant, who this time was the bearer of a plump +partridge "To Miss Montgomery;" and her mind was a great deal +easier on this subject from that time. + + +CHAPTER VI. + +Night and Morning. + + +October was now far advanced. One evening the evening of the +last Sunday in the month Mrs. Montgomery was lying in the +parlour alone. Ellen had gone to bed some time before; and +now, in the stillness of the Sabbath evening, the ticking of +the clock was almost the only sound to be heard. The hands +were rapidly approaching ten. Captain Montgomery was abroad; +and he had been so according to custom or in bed, the +whole day. The mother and daughter had had the Sabbath to +themselves; and most quietly and sweetly it had passed. They +had read together, prayed together, talked together a great +deal; and the evening had been spent in singing hymns; but +Mrs. Montgomery's strength failed here, and Ellen sang alone. +_She_ was not soon weary. Hymn succeeded hymn, with fresh and +varied pleasure; and her mother could not tire of listening. +The sweet words, and the sweet airs which were all old +friends, and brought of themselves many a lesson of wisdom and +consolation, by the mere force of association needed not the +recommendation of the clear childish voice in which they were +sung, which was, of all things, the sweetest to Mrs. +Montgomery's ear. She listened till she almost felt as if +earth were left behind, and she and her child already standing +within the walls of that city where sorrow and sighing shall +be no more, and the tears shall be wiped from all eyes for +ever. Ellen's next hymn, however, brought her back to earth +again; but though her tears flowed freely while she heard it, +all her causes of sorrow could not render them bitter. + + +"God in Israel sows the seeds + +Of affliction, pain, and toil; + +These spring up and choke the weeds + +Which would else o'erspread the soil. + +Trials make the promise sweet + +Trials give new life to prayer + +Trials bring me to his feet, + +Lay me low, and keep me there." + + +"It is so, indeed, dear Ellen," said Mrs. Montgomery, when she +had finished and holding the little singer to her breast +"I have always found it so. God is faithful. I have seen +abundant cause to thank him for all the evils he has made me +suffer heretofore, and I do not doubt it will be the same with +this last and worst one. Let us glorify him in the fires, my +daughter; and if earthly joys be stripped from us, and if we +be torn from each other, let us cling the closer to him he +can, and he will, in that case, make up to us more than all we +have lost." + +Ellen felt her utter inability to join in her mother's +expressions of confidence and hope; to her there was no +brightness on the cloud that hung over them it was all dark. +She could only press her lips, in tearful silence, to the one +and the other of her mother's cheeks alternately. How sweet +the sense of the coming parting made every such embrace! This +one, for particular reasons, was often and long remembered. A +few minutes they remained thus in each other's arms, cheek +pressed against cheek, without speaking; but then Mrs. +Montgomery remembered that Ellen's bed-time was already past, +and dismissed her. + +For a while after, Mrs. Montgomery remained just where Ellen +had left her, her busy thoughts roaming over many things, in +the far past, and the sad present, and the uncertain future. +She was unconscious of the passage of time, and did not notice +how the silence deepened as the night drew on, till scarce a +footfall was heard in the street, and the ticking of the clock +sounded with that sad distinctness which seems to say "Time +is going on time is going on, and you are going with it +do what you will, you can't help that." It was just upon the +stroke of ten, and Mrs. Montgomery was still wrapped in her +deep musings, when a sharp, brisk footstep in the distance +aroused her, rapidly approaching; and she knew very well whose +it was, and that it would pause at the door, before she heard +the quick run up the steps, succeeded by her husband's tread +upon the staircase. And yet she saw him open the door with a +kind of startled feeling, which his appearance now invariably +caused her; the thought always darted through her head, +"Perhaps he brings news of Ellen's going." Something, it would +have been impossible to say what, in his appearance or manner, +confirmed this fear on the present occasion. Her heart felt +sick, and she waited in silence to hear what he would say. _He_ +seemed very well pleased sat down before the fire, rubbing +his hands, partly with cold and partly with satisfaction; and +his first words were "Well! we have got a fine opportunity +for her at last." + +How little he was capable of understanding the pang this +announcement gave his poor wife! But she only closed her eyes +and kept perfectly quiet, and he never suspected it. + +He unbuttoned his coat, and taking the poker in his hand, +began to mend the fire, talking the while. + +"I am very glad of it, indeed," said he; "it's quite a load +off my mind. Now we'll be gone directly, and high time it is +I'll take passage in the _England_ the first thing to-morrow. +And this is the best possible chance for Ellen every thing +we could have desired. I began to feel very uneasy about it +it was getting so late; but I am quite relieved now." + +"Who is it?" said Mrs. Montgomery, forcing herself to speak. + +"Why, it's Mrs. Dunscombe," said the captain, flourishing his +poker by way of illustration; "you know her, don't you? +Captain Dunscombe's wife she's going right through +Thirlwall, and will take charge of Ellen as far as that, and +there my sister will meet her with a waggon and take her +straight home. Couldn't be anything better. I write to let +Fortune know when to expect her. Mrs. Dunscombe is a lady of +the first family and fashion in the highest degree +respectable; she is going on to Fort Jameson, with her +daughter and a servant, and her husband is to follow her in a +few days. I happened to hear of it to-day, and I immediately +seized the opportunity to ask if she would not take Ellen with +her as far as Thirlwall, and Dunscombe was only too glad to +oblige me. I'm a very good friend of his, and he knows it." + +"How soon does she go?" + +"Why, that's the only part of the business I am afraid you +won't like but there is no help for it; and, after all, it +is a great deal better so than if you had time to wear +yourselves out with mourning; better, and easier too, in the +end." + +"How soon?" repeated Mrs. Montgomery, with an agonized accent. + +"Why, I'm a little afraid of startling you Dunscombe's wife +must go, he told me, to-morrow morning; and we arranged that +she could call in the carriage at six o'clock to take up +Ellen." + +Mrs. Montgomery put her hands to her face and sank back +against the sofa. + +"I was afraid you would take it so," said her husband, "but I +don't think it is worth while. It is a great deal better as it +is; a great deal better than if she had a long warning. You +would fairly wear yourself out if you had time enough, and you +haven't any strength to spare." + +It was some while before Mrs. Montgomery could recover +composure and firmness enough to go on with what she had to +do, though, knowing the necessity, she strove hard for it. For +several minutes she remained quite silent and quiet, +endeavouring to collect her scattered forces; then sitting +upright and drawing her shawl around her, she exclaimed "I +must waken Ellen immediately!" + +"Waken Ellen!" exclaimed her husband, in his turn; "what on +earth for? That's the very last thing to be done." + +"Why, you would not put off telling her until to-morrow +morning?" said Mrs. Montgomery. + +"Certainly I would; that's the only proper way to do. Why in +the world should you wake her up, just to spend the whole +night in useless grieving? unfitting her utterly for her +journey, and doing yourself more harm than you can undo in a +week. No, no; just let her sleep quietly, and you can go to +bed and do the same. Wake her up, indeed! I thought you were +wiser." + +"But she will be so dreadfully shocked in the morning!" + +"Not one bit more that she would be to-night, and she won't +have so much time to feel it. In the hurry and bustle of +getting off, she will not have time to think about her +feelings; and once on the way, she will do well enough; +children always do." + +Mrs. Montgomery looked undecided and unsatisfied. + +"I'll take the responsibility of this matter on myself; you +must not waken her, absolutely. It would not do at all," said +the captain, poking the fire very energetically; "it would not +do at all; I cannot allow it." + +Mrs. Montgomery silently arose and lit a lamp. + +"You are not going into Ellen's room?" said the husband. + +"I must I must put her things together." + +"But you'll not disturb Ellen?" said he, in a tone that +required a promise. + +"Not if I can help it." + +Twice Mrs. Montgomery stopped before she reached to door of +Ellen's room, for her heart failed her. But she _must_ go on, +and the necessary preparations for the morrow _must_ be made +she knew it; and repeating this to herself, she gently turned +the handle of the door, and pushed it open, and guarding the +light with her hand from Ellen's eyes, she set it where it +would not shine upon her. Having done this, she set herself, +without once glancing at her little daughter, to put all +things in order for her early departure on the following +morning. But it was a bitter piece of work for her. She first +laid out all that Ellen would need to wear; the dark merino, +the new nankeen coat, the white bonnet, the clean frill that +her own hands had done up, the little gloves and shoes, and +all the etceteras, with the thoughtfulness and the carefulness +of love; but it went through and through her heart that it was +the very last time a mother's fingers would ever be busy in +arranging or preparing Ellen's attire; the very last time she +would ever see or touch even the little inanimate things that +belonged to her; and painful as the task was, she was loth to +have it come to an end. It was with a kind of lingering +unwillingness to quit her hold of them, that one thing after +another was stowed carefully and neatly away in the trunk. She +felt it was love's last act; words might indeed a few times +yet come over the ocean on a sheet of paper; but sight, and +hearing, and touch, must all have done henceforth for ever. +Keenly as Mrs. Montgomery felt this, she went on busily with +her work all the while, and when the last thing was safely +packed, shut the trunk and locked, it without allowing herself +to stop and think, and even drew the straps. And then, having +finished all her task, she went to the bedside; she had not +looked that way before. + +Ellen was lying in the deep, sweet sleep of childhood; the +easy position, the gentle breathing, and the flush of health +upon the cheek, showed that all causes of sorrow were for the +present far removed. Yet not so far either; for once, when +Mrs. Montgomery stooped to kiss her, light as the touch of +that kiss had been upon her lips, it seemed to awaken a train +of sorrowful recollections in the little sleeper's mind. A +shade passed over her face, and with gentle but sad accent the +word "Mamma!" burst from the parted lips. Only a moment and +the shade passed away, and the expression of peace settled +again upon her brow; but Mrs. Montgomery dared not try the +experiment a second time. Long she stood looking upon her, as +if she knew she was looking her last; then she knelt by the +bedside, and hid her face in the coverings but no tears +came; the struggle in her mind, and her anxious fear for the +morning's trial, made weeping impossible. Her husband at +length came to seek her, and it was well he did; she would +have remained there on her knees all night. He feared +something of the kind, and came to prevent it. Mrs. Montgomery +suffered herself to be led away without making any opposition, +and went to bed as usual; but sleep was far from her. The fear +of Ellen's distress when she should be awakened and suddenly +told the truth, kept her in an agony. In restless wakefulness +she tossed and turned uneasily upon her bed, watching for the +dawn, and dreading unspeakably to see it. The captain, in +happy unconsciousness of his wife's distress, and utter +inability to sympathize with it, was soon in a sound sleep, +and his heavy breathing was an aggravation of her trouble; it +kept repeating, what indeed she knew already, that the only +one in the world who ought to have shared and soothed her +grief was not capable of doing either. Wearied with watching +and tossing to and fro, she at length lost herself a moment in +uneasy slumber, from which she suddenly started in terror, and +seizing her husband's arm to arouse him, exclaimed, "It is +time to wake Ellen!" but she had to repeat her efforts two or +three times before she succeeded in making herself heard. + +"What is the matter?" said he, heavily, and not over well +pleased at the interruption. + +"It is time to wake Ellen." + +"No it isn't," said he, relapsing; "it isn't time yet this +great while." + +"Oh, yes, it is," said Mrs. Montgomery; "I am sure it is; I +see the beginning of dawn in the east." + +"Nonsense! it's no such thing; it's the glimmer of the lamp- +light; what is the use of your exciting yourself so, for +nothing? It won't be dawn these two hours. Wait till I find my +repeater, and I'll convince you." He found and struck it. + +"There! I told you so only one quarter after four; it would +be absurd to wake her yet. Do go to sleep, and leave it to me; +I'll take care it is done in proper time." + +Mrs. Montgomery sighed heavily, and again arranged herself to +watch the eastern horizon, or rather with her face in that +direction; for she could see nothing. But, more quietly now, +she lay gazing into the darkness, which it was in vain to try +to penetrate; and thoughts succeeding thoughts in a more +regular train, at last fairly cheated her into sleep, much as +she wished to keep it off. She slept soundly for near an hour; +and when she awoke, the dawn had really begun to break in the +eastern sky. She again aroused Captain Montgomery, who this +time allowed it might be as well to get up; but it was with +unutterable impatience that she saw him lighting a lamp, and +moving about as leisurely as if he had nothing more to do than +to get ready for breakfast at eight o'clock. + +"Oh! do speak to Ellen!" she said, unable to control herself. +"Never mind brushing your hair till afterwards. She will have +no time for any thing. Oh! do not wait any longer! what are +you thinking of?" + +"What are _you_ thinking of?" said the captain; "there's +plenty of time. Do quiet yourself you're getting as nervous +as possible. I'm going immediately." + +Mrs. Montgomery fairly groaned with impatience, and an +agonizing dread of what was to follow the disclosure to Ellen. +But her husband coolly went on with his preparations, which +indeed were not long in finishing; and then taking the lamp, +he at last went. He had in truth delayed on purpose, wishing +the final leave-taking to be as brief as possible; and the +gray streaks of light in the east were plainly showing +themselves when he opened the door of his little daughter's +room. He found her lying very much as her mother had left her + in the same quiet sleep, and with the same expression of +calmness and peace spread over her whole face and person. It +touched even him, and he was not readily touched by any thing; + it made him loth to say the word that would drive all that +sweet expression so quickly and completely away. It must be +said, however; the increasing light warned him he must not +tarry; but it was with a hesitating and almost faltering voice +that he said, "Ellen!" + +She stirred in her sleep, and the shadow came over her face +again. + +"Ellen! Ellen!" + +She started up broad awake now; and both the shadow and +the peaceful expression were gone from her face. It was a look +of blank astonishment at first with which she regarded her +father, but very soon indeed that changed into one of bleak +despair. He saw that she understood perfectly what he was +there for, and that there was no need at all for him to +trouble himself with making painful explanations. + +"Come, Ellen," he said, "that's a good child make haste and +dress. There's no time to lose now, for the carriage will soon +be at the door; and your mother wants to see you, you know." + +Ellen hastily obeyed him, and began to put on her stockings +and shoes. + +"That's right now you'll be ready directly. You are going +with Mrs. Dunscombe I have engaged her to take charge of you +all the way quite to Thirlwall; she's the wife of Captain +Dunscombe, whom you saw here the other day, you know; and her +daughter is going with her, so you will have charming company. +I dare say you will enjoy the journey very much; and your aunt +will meet you at Thirlwall. Now, make haste I expect the +carriage every minute. I meant to have called you before, but +I overslept myself. Don't be long." + +And nodding encouragement, her father left her. + +"How did she bear it?" asked Mrs. Montgomery, when he +returned. + +"Like a little hero. She didn't say a word, or shed a tear. I +expected nothing but that she would make a great fuss; but she +has all the old spirit that you used to have and have yet, +for any thing I know. She behaved admirably." + +Mrs. Montgomery sighed deeply. She understood far better than +her husband what Ellen's feelings were, and could interpret +much more truly than he the signs of them; the conclusion she +drew from Ellen's silent and tearless reception of the news +differed widely from his. She now waited anxiously and almost +fearfully for her appearance, which did not come as soon as +she expected it. + +It was a great relief to Ellen when her father ended his +talking, and left her to herself; for she felt she could not +dress herself so quick with him standing there and looking at +her, and his desire that she should be speedy in what she had +to do, could not be greater than her own. Her fingers did +their work as fast as they could, with every joint trembling. +But though a weight like a mountain was upon the poor child's +heart, she could not cry; and she could not pray, though, true +to her constant habit, she fell on her knees by her bedside, +as she always did: it was in vain: all was in a whirl in her +heart and head, and after a minute, she rose again, clasping +her little hands together with an expression of sorrow that it +was well her mother could not see. She was dressed very soon, +but she shrank from going to her mother's room while her +father was there. To save time she put on her coat, and +everything but her bonnet and gloves; and then stood leaning +against the bed-post, for she could not sit down, watching +with most intense anxiety to hear her father's step come out +of the room and go down-stairs. Every minute seemed too long +to be borne; poor Ellen began to feel as if she could not +contain herself. Yet five had not passed away when she heard +the roll of carriage-wheels, which came to the door and then +stopped, and immediately her father opening the door to come +out. Without waiting any longer, Ellen opened her own, and +brushed past him into the room he had quitted. Mrs. Montgomery +was still lying on the bed, for her husband has insisted on +her not rising. She said not a word, but opened her arms to +receive her little daughter; and with a cry of indescribable +expression, Ellen sprang upon the bed, and was folded in them. +But then neither of them spoke or wept. What could words say? +Heart met heart in that agony, for each knew all that was in +the other. No not quite all. Ellen did not know that the +whole of bitterness death had for her mother she was tasting +then. But it was true. Death had no more power to give her +pain after this parting should be over. His after-work the +parting between soul and body would be welcome, rather; yes, +very welcome. Mrs. Montgomery knew it all well. She knew this +was the last embrace between them. She knew it would be the +very last time that dear little form would ever lie on her +bosom, or be pressed in her arms; and it almost seemed to her +that soul and body must part company too, when they should be +rent asunder. Ellen's grief was not like this; _she_ did not +think it was the last time; but she was a child of very high +spirit and violent passions, untamed at all by sorrow's +discipline; and in proportion violent was the tempest excited +by this first real trial. Perhaps, too, her sorrow was +sharpened by a sense of wrong, and a feeling of indignation at +her father's cruelty in not waking her earlier. + +Not many minutes had passed in this sad embrace, and no word +had yet been spoken; no sound uttered, except Ellen's first +inarticulate cry of mixed affection and despair, when Captain +Montgomery's step was again heard slowly ascending the stairs. +"He is coming to take me away!" thought Ellen; and in terror +lest she should go without a word from her mother, she burst +forth with, "Mamma! speak!" + +A moment before, and Mrs. Montgomery could not have spoken. +But she could now; and as clearly and calmly the words were +uttered as if nothing had been the matter, only her voice fell +a little toward the last. + +"God bless my darling child! and make her his own and bring +her to that home where parting cannot be!" + +Ellen's eyes had been dry until now; but when she heard the +sweet sound of her mother's voice, it opened all the fountains +of tenderness within her. She burst into uncontrollable +weeping; it seemed as if she would pour out her very heart in +tears; and she clung to her mother with a force that made it a +difficult task for her father to remove her. He could not do +it at first; and Ellen seemed not to hear any thing that was +said to her. He was very unwilling to use harshness; and after +a little, though she had paid no attention to his entreaties +or commands, yet, sensible of the necessity of the case, she +gradually relaxed her hold and suffered him to draw her away +from her mother's arms. He carried her down stairs, and put +her on the front seat of the carriage, beside Mrs. Dunscombe's +maid but Ellen could never recollect how she got there, and +she did not feel the touch of her father's hand, nor hear him +when he bid her good-bye; and she did not know that he put a +large paper of candies and sugar-plums in her lap. She knew +nothing but that she had lost her mother. + +"It will not be so long," said the captain, in a kind of +apologizing way; "she will soon get over it, and you will not +have any trouble with her." + +"I hope so," returned the lady, rather shortly; and then, as +the captain was making his parting bow, she added, in no very +pleased tone of voice "Pray, Captain Montgomery, is this +young lady to travel without a bonnet?" + +"Without a bonnet! no," said the captain. "How is this? +hasn't she a bonnet? I beg a thousand pardons, Maam I'll +bring it on the instant." + +After a little delay, the bonnet was found, but the captain +overlooked the gloves in his hurry. + +"I am very sorry you have been delayed, Maam," said he. + +"I hope we may be able to reach the boat yet," replied the +lady. "Drive on as fast as you can!" + +A very polite bow from Captain Montgomery a very slight one +from the lady and off they drove. + +"Proud enough," thought the captain, as he went up the stairs +again. "I reckon she don't thank me for her travelling +companion. But Ellen's off that's one good thing and now +I'll go and engage berths in the England." + + +CHAPTER VII. + +"Strangers walk as friends." + + +The long drive to the boat was only a sorrowful blank to +Ellen's recollection. She did not see the frowns that passed +between her companions on her account. She did not know that +her white bonnet was such a matter of merriment to Margaret +Dunscombe and the maid, that they could hardly contain +themselves. She did not find out that Miss Margaret's fingers +were busy with her paper of sweets, which only a good string +and a sound knot kept her from rifling. Yet she felt very well +that nobody there cared in the least for her sorrow. It +mattered nothing; she wept on in her loneliness, and knew +nothing that happened, till the carriage stopped on the wharf; +even then she did not raise her head. Mrs. Dunscombe got out, +and saw her daughter and servant do the same; then after +giving some orders about the baggage, she returned to Ellen. + +"Will you get out, Miss Montgomery, or would you prefer to +remain in the carriage? We must go on board directly." + +There was something, not in the words, but in the tone, that +struck Ellen's heart with an entirely new feeling. Her tears +stopped instantly, and, wiping away quick the traces of them +as well as she could, she got out of the carriage without a +word, aided by Mrs. Dunscombe's hand. The party was presently +joined by a fine-looking man, whom Ellen recognised as Captain +Dunscombe. + +"Dunscombe, do put these girls on board, will you? and then +come back to me; I want to speak to you. Timmins, you may go +along and look after them." + +Captain Dunscombe obeyed. When they reached the deck, Margaret +Dunscombe and the maid Timmins went straight to the cabin. Not +feeling at all drawn towards their company, as indeed they had +given her no reason, Ellen planted herself by the guards of +the boat, not far from the gangway, to watch the busy scene +that at another time would have had a great deal of interest +and amusement for her. And interest it had now; but it was +with a very, very grave little face that she looked on the +bustling crowd. The weight on her heart was just as great as +ever, but she felt this was not the time or the place to let +it be seen; so for the present she occupied herself with what +was passing before her, though it did not for one moment make +her forget her sorrow. + +At last the boat rang her last bell. Captain Dunscombe put his +wife on board, and had barely time to jump off the boat again +when the plank was withdrawn. The men on shore cast off the +great loops of ropes that held the boat to enormous wooden +posts on the wharf, and they were off! + +At first it seemed to Ellen as if the wharf and the people +upon it were sailing away from them backwards; but she +presently forgot to think of them at all. She was gone! she +felt the bitterness of the whole truth; the blue water +already lay between her and the shore, where she so much +longed to be. In that confused mass of buildings at which she +was gazing, but which would be so soon beyond even gazing +distance, was the only spot she cared for in the world; her +heart was there. She could not see the place, to be sure, nor +tell exactly whereabouts it lay in all that wide-spread city; +but it was there, somewhere and every minute was making it +farther and farther off. It's a bitter thing, that sailing +away from all one loves; and poor Ellen felt it so. She stood +leaning both her arms upon the rail, the tears running down +her cheeks, and blinding her so that she could not see the +place towards which her straining eyes were bent. Somebody +touched her sleeve it was Timmins. + +"Mrs. Dunscombe sent me to tell you she wants you to come into +the cabin, Miss." + +Hastily wiping her eyes, Ellen obeyed the summons, and +followed Timmins into the cabin. It was full of groups of +ladies, children, and nurses bustling and noisy enough. +Ellen wished she might have stayed outside; she wanted to be +by herself; but, as the next best thing, she mounted upon the +bench, which ran all round the saloon, and kneeling on the +cushion by one of the windows, placed herself with the edge of +her bonnet just touching the glass, so that nobody could see a +bit of her face, while she could look out near by as well as +from the deck. Presently her ear caught, as she thought, the +voice of Mrs. Dunscombe, saying in rather an undertone, but +laughing too, "What a figure she does cut in that outlandish +bonnet!" + +Ellen had no particular reason to think _she_ was meant, and yet +she did think so. She remained quite still, but with raised +colour and quickened breathing waited to hear what would come +next. Nothing came at first, and she was beginning to think +she had perhaps been mistaken, when she plainly heard Margaret +Dunscombe say, in a loud whisper + +"Mamma, I wish you could contrive some way to keep her in the +cabin can't you? she looks so odd in that queer sun-bonnet +kind of a thing, that anybody would think she had come out of +the woods; and no gloves too; I shouldn't like to have the +Miss M'Arthurs think she belonged to us; can't you, Mamma?" + +If a thunderbolt had fallen at Ellen's feet, the shock would +hardly have been greater. The lightning of passion shot +through every vein. And it was not passion only: there was +hurt feeling and wounded pride; and the sorrow of which her +heart was full enough before, now wakened afresh. The child +was beside herself. One wild wish for a hiding-place was the +most pressing thought to be where tears could burst and her +heart could break unseen. She slid off her bench and rushed +through the crowd to the red curtain that cut off the far end +of the saloon; and from there down to the cabin below people +were everywhere. At last she spied a nook where she could be +completely hidden. It was in the far-back end of the boat, +just under the stairs by which she had come down. Nobody was +sitting on the three or four large mahogany steps that ran +round that end of the cabin, and sloped up to the little cabin +window: and creeping beneath the stairs, and seating herself +on the lowest of these steps, the poor child found that she +was quite screened, and out of sight of every human creature. +It was time, indeed; her heart had been almost bursting with +passion and pain, and now the pent-up tempest broke forth with +a fury that racked her little frame from head to foot; and the +more because she strove to stifle every sound of it as much as +possible. It was the very bitterness of sorrow, without any +softening thought to allay it, and sharpened and made more +bitter by mortification and a passionate sense of unkindness +and wrong. And through it all, how constantly in her heart the +poor child was reaching forth longing arms towards her far-off +mother, and calling in secret on her beloved name. "Oh, Mamma! +Mamma!" was repeated numberless times, with the unspeakable +bitterness of knowing that she would have been a sure refuge +and protection from all this trouble, but was now where she +could neither reach nor hear her. Alas! how soon and how sadly +missed! + +Ellen's distress was not soon quieted, or, if quieted for a +moment, it was only to break out afresh. And then she was glad +to sit still and rest herself. + +Presently she heard the voice of the chambermaid upstairs, at +a distance at first, and coming nearer and nearer. "Breakfast +ready, ladies! Ladies, breakfast ready!" and then came all +the people in a rush pouring down the stairs over Ellen's +head. She kept quite still and close, for she did not want to +see anybody, and could not bear that anybody should see her. +Nobody did see her they all went off into the next cabin, +where breakfast was set. Ellen began to grow tired of her +hiding-place, and to feel restless in her confinement she +thought this would be a good time to get away; so she crept +from her station under the stairs, and mounted them as quick +and as quietly as she could. She found almost nobody left in +the saloon and, breathing more freely, she possessed herself +of her despised bonnet, which she had torn off her head in the +first burst of her indignation, and passing gently out at the +door, went up the stairs which led to the promenade deck she +felt as if she could not get far enough from Mrs. Dunscombe. + +The promenade-deck was very pleasant in the bright morning +sun: and nobody was there except a few gentlemen. Ellen sat +down on one of the settees that were ranged along the middle +of it, and much pleased at having found herself such a nice +place of retreat, she once more took up her interrupted +amusement of watching the banks of the river. + +It was a fair, mild day, near the end of October, and one of +the loveliest of that lovely month. Poor Ellen, however, could +not fairly enjoy it just now. There was enough darkness in her +heart to put a veil over all nature's brightness. The thought +did pass through her mind, when she first went up, how very +fair everything was; but she soon forgot to think about it at +all. They were now in a wide part of the river, and the shore +towards which she was looking was low and distant, and offered +nothing to interest her. She ceased to look at it, and +presently lost all sense of everything around and before her, +for her thoughts went home. She remembered that sweet moment, +last night, when she lay in her mother's arms, after she had +stopped singing could it be only last night? it seemed a +long, long time ago. She went over again, in imagination, her +shocked waking up that very morning how cruel that was! +her hurried dressing the miserable parting and those last +words of her mother, that seemed to ring in her ears yet +"That home where parting cannot be." "Oh!" thought Ellen, "how +shall I ever get there? Who is there to teach me now? Oh! what +shall I do without you? Oh, Mamma! how much I want you +already!" + +While poor Ellen was thinking these things over and over, her +little face had a deep sadness of expression it was sorrowful +to see. She was perfectly calm her violent excitement had +all left her her lip quivered a very little, sometimes, but +that was all; and one or two tears rolled slowly down the side +of her face. Her eyes were fixed upon the dancing water, but +it was very plain her thoughts were not, nor on anything else +before her; and there was a forlorn look of hopeless sorrow on +her lip, and cheek, and brow, enough to move anybody whose +heart was not very hard. She was noticed, and with a feeling +of compassion, by several people; but they all thought it was +none of their business to speak to her, or they didn't know +how. At length a gentleman, who had been for some time walking +up and down the deck, happened to look, as he passed, at her +little pale face. He went to the end of his walk that time, +but in coming back he stopped just in front of her, and, +bending down his face towards hers, said, + +"What is the matter with you, my little friend?" + +Though his figure had passed before her a great many times +Ellen had not seen him at all; for "her eyes were with her +heart, and that was far away." Her cheek flushed with surprise +as she looked up. But there was no mistaking the look of +kindness in the eyes that met hers, nor the gentleness and +grave truthfulness of the whole countenance. It won her +confidence immediately. All the floodgates of Ellen's heart +were at once opened. She could not speak, but rising, and +clasping the hand that was held out to her in both her own, +she bent down her head upon it, and burst into one of those +uncontrollable agonies of weeping, such as the news of her +mother's intended departure had occasioned that first +sorrowful evening. He gently, and as soon as he could, drew +her to a retired part of the deck, where they were +comparatively free from other people's eyes and ears; then, +taking her in his arms he endeavoured by many kind and +soothing words to stay the torrent of her grief. This fit of +weeping did Ellen more good than the former one; that only +exhausted, this in some little measure relieved her. + +"What is all this about?" said her friend, kindly. "Nay, never +mind shedding any more tears about it, my child. Let me hear +what it is, and perhaps we can find some help for it." + +"Oh, no! you can't, Sir," said Ellen, sadly. + +"Well, let us see," said he "perhaps I can. What is it that +has troubled you so much?" + +"I have lost my mother, Sir," said Ellen. + +"Your mother! Lost her! how?" + +"She is very ill, Sir, and obliged to go away over the sea to +France, to get well; and papa could not take me with her," +said poor Ellen, weeping again, "and I am obliged to go to be +among strangers. Oh, what shall I do?" + +"Have you left your mother in the city?" + +"Oh yes, Sir! I left her this morning." + +"What is your name?" + +"Ellen Montgomery." + +"Is your mother obliged to go to Europe for her health?" + +"Oh yes, Sir; nothing else would have made her go, but the +doctor said she would not live long if she didn't go, and that +would cure her." + +"Then you hope to see her come back by-and-by, don't you?" + +"Oh yes, Sir; but it won't be this great, great, long while; +it seems to me as if it was for ever." + +"Ellen, do you know who it is that sends sickness and trouble +upon us?" + +"Yes, Sir, I know; but I don't feel that that makes it any +easier." + +"Do you know _why_ he sends it? He is the God of love he does +not trouble us willingly he has said so; why does he ever +make us suffer? do you know?" + +"No, Sir." + +"Sometimes he sees that if he lets them alone, his children +will love some dear thing on the earth better than himself, +and he knows they will not be happy if they do so; and then, +because he loves them, he takes it away perhaps it is a dear +mother, or a dear daughter or else he hinders their +enjoyment of it, that they may remember him, and give their +whole hearts to him. He wants their whole hearts, that he may +bless them. Are you one of his children, Ellen?" + +"No, Sir," said Ellen, with swimming eyes, but cast down to +the ground. + +"How do you know that you are not?" + +"Because I do not love the Saviour." + +"Do you not love him, Ellen?" + +"I am afraid not, Sir." + +"Why are you afraid not? What makes you think so?" + +"Mamma said I could not love him at all, if I did not love him +best; and, oh! Sir," said Ellen, weeping, "I do love Mamma a +great deal better." + +"You love your mother better than you do the Saviour?" + +"Oh yes, Sir," said Ellen; "how can I help it?" + +"Then, if he had left you your mother, Ellen, you would never +have cared or thought about him?" + +Ellen was silent. + +"Is it so? would you, do you think?" + +"I don't know, Sir," said Ellen, weeping again "oh, Sir! how +can I help it?" + +"Then Ellen, can you not see the love of your heavenly Father +in this trial? He saw that his little child was in danger of +forgetting him; and he loved you, Ellen; and so he has taken +your dear mother, and sent you away where you will have no one +to look to but him; and now he says to you, 'My daughter, give +_me_ thy heart.' Will you do it, Ellen?" + +Ellen wept exceedingly while the gentleman was saying these +words, clasping his hands still in both hers; but she made no +answer. He waited till she had become calmer, and then went on +in a low tone + +"What is the reason that you do not love the Saviour, my +child?" + +"Mamma says it is because my heart is so hard." + +"That is true; but you do not know how good and how lovely he +is, or you could not help loving him. Do you often think of +him, and think much of him, and ask him to show you himself, +that you may love him?" + +"No, Sir," said Ellen; "not often." + +"You pray to him, don't you?" + +"Yes, Sir; but not so." + +"But you ought to pray to him so. We are all blind by nature, +Ellen; we are all hard-hearted; none of us can see him or +love him unless he opens our eyes and touches our hearts; but +he has promised to do this for those who seek him. Do you +remember what the blind man said when Jesus asked him what he +should do for him? he answered, 'Lord, that I may receive my +sight!' That ought to be your prayer now, and mine too; and +the Lord is just as ready to hear us as he was to hear the +poor blind man; and you know he cured him. Will you ask him, +Ellen?" + +A smile was almost struggling through Ellen's tears as she +lifted her face to that of her friend, but she instantly +looked down again. + +"Shall I put you in mind, Ellen, of some things about Christ +that ought to make you love him with all your heart?" + +"Oh yes, Sir, if you please." + +"Then tell me first what it is that makes you love your mother +so much?" + +"Oh, I can't tell you, Sir; everything, I think." + +"I suppose the great thing is that she loves _you_ so much?" + +"Oh yes, Sir," said Ellen, strongly. + +"But how do you know that she loves you? how has she shown +it?" + +Ellen looked at him, but could give no answer; it seemed to +her that she must bring the whole experience of her life +before him to form one. + +"I suppose," said her friend, "that, to begin with the +smallest thing, she has always been watchfully careful to +provide every thing that would be useful or necessary for you; + she never forgot your wants, or was careless about them?" + +"No indeed, Sir." + +"And perhaps you recollect that she never minded trouble, or +expense, or pain, where your good was concerned; she would +sacrifice her own pleasure at any time for yours?" + +Ellen's eyes gave a quick and strong answer to this, but she +said nothing. + +"And in all your griefs and pleasures you were sure of finding +her ready and willing to feel with you, and for you, and to +help you if she could? And in all the times you have seen her +tried, no fatigue ever wore out her patience, nor any +naughtiness of yours ever lessened her love; she could not be +weary of waiting upon you when you were sick, nor of bearing +with you when you forgot your duty more ready always to +receive you than you to return. Isn't it so?" + +"Oh yes, Sir." + +"And you can recollect a great many words and looks of +kindness and love many and many endeavours to teach you and +lead you in the right way all showing the strongest desire +for your happiness in this world, and in the next?" + +"Oh yes, Sir, "said Ellen, tearfully; and then added, "Do you +know my mother, Sir?" + +"No," said he, smiling, "not at all; but my own mother has +been in many things like this to me, and I judged yours might +have been such to you. Have I described her right?" + +"Yes, indeed, Sir," said Ellen "exactly." + +"And in return for all this, you have given this dear mother +the love and gratitude of your whole heart, haven't you?" + +"Indeed I have, Sir;" and Ellen's face said it more than her +words. + +"You are very right," he said, gravely, "to love such a mother + to give her all possible duty and affection; she deserves +it. But, Ellen, in all these very things I have been +mentioning, Jesus Christ has shown that he deserves it far +more. Do you think, if you had never behaved like a child to +your mother if you had never made her the least return of +love or regard that she would have continued to love you as +she does?" + +"No, Sir," said Ellen "I do not think she would." + +"Have you ever made any fit return to God for his goodness to +you?" + +"No, Sir," said Ellen, in a low tone. + +"And yet there has been no change in _his_ kindness. Just look +at it, and see what he has done and is doing for you. In the +first place, it is not your mother, but he, who has given you +every good and pleasant thing you have enjoyed in your whole +life. You love your mother, because she is so careful to +provide for all your wants; but who gave her the materials to +work with? She has only been, as it were, the hand by which +he supplied you. And who gave you such a mother? There are +many mothers not like her; who put into her heart the truth +and love that have been blessing you ever since you were born? +It is all all God's doing, from first to last: but his child +has forgotten him in the very gifts of his mercy." + +Ellen was silent, but looked very grave. + +"Your mother never minded her own ease or pleasure when your +good was concerned. Did Christ mind his? You know what he did +to save sinners, don't you?" + +"Yes, Sir, I know; Mamma often told me." + +" 'Though he was rich, yet for our sakes he became poor, that +we through his poverty might be rich.' He took your burden of +sin upon himself, and suffered that terrible punishment all +to save you, and such as you. And now he asks his children to +leave off sinning and come back to him, who has bought them +with his own blood. He did this because he _loved_ you; does he +not deserve to be loved in return?' + +Ellen had nothing to say; she hung down her head further and +further. + +"And patient and kind as your mother is, the Lord Jesus is +kinder and more patient still. In all your life so far, Ellen, +you have not loved or obeyed him; and yet he loves you, and is +ready to be your friend. Is he not even to-day taking away +your dear mother for the very purpose that he may draw you +gently to himself, and fold you in his arms, as he has +promised to do with his lambs? He knows you can never be happy +anywhere else." + +The gentleman paused again, for he saw that the little +listener's mind was full. + +"Has not Christ shown that he loves you better even than your +mother does? And were there ever sweeter words of kindness +than these? + + +" 'Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them +not; for of such is the kingdom of heaven.' + +" 'I am the good shepherd; the good shepherd giveth his life +for the sheep.' + +" 'I have loved thee with an everlasting love; therefore with +loving-kindness have I drawn thee.' " + + +He waited a minute, and then added, gently + +"Will you come to him, Ellen?" + +Ellen lifted her tearful eyes to his; but there were tears +there too, and her own sank instantly. She covered her face +with her hands, and sobbed out in broken words + +"Oh, if I could! but I don't know how." + +"Do you wish to be his child, Ellen?" + +"Oh yes, Sir if I could." + +"I know, my child, that sinful heart of yours is in the way, +but the Lord Jesus can change it, and will, if you will give +it to him. He is looking upon you now, Ellen, with more +kindness and love than any earthly father or mother could, +waiting for you to give that little heart of yours to him, +that he may make it holy, and fill it with blessing. He says, +you know, 'Behold, I stand at the door and knock.' Do not +grieve him away, Ellen." + +Ellen sobbed, but all the passion and bitterness of her tears +was gone. Her heart was completely melted. + +"If your mother were here, and could do for you what you want, +would you doubt her love to do it? would you have any +difficulty in asking her?" + +"Oh no!" + +"Then do not doubt his love who loves you better still. Come +to Jesus. Do not fancy he is away up in heaven out of reach of +hearing; he is here, close to you, and knows every wish and +throb of your heart. Think you are in his presence and at his +feet even now and say to him in your heart, 'Lord, look +upon me I am not fit to come to thee, but thou hast bid me +come take me and make me thine own take this hard heart +that I can do nothing with, and make it holy and fill it with +thy love I give it and myself into thy hands, O dear +Saviour!' " + +These words were spoken very low, that only Ellen could catch +them. Her bowed head sank lower and lower till he ceased +speaking. He added no more for some time, waited till she had +resumed her usual attitude and appearance, and then said + +"Ellen, could you join in heart with my words?" + +"I did, Sir I couldn't help it all but the last." + +"All but the last?" + +"Yes, Sir." + +"But, Ellen, if you say the first part of my prayer with your +whole heart, the Lord will enable you to say the last too do +you believe that?" + +"Yes, Sir." + +"Will you not make that your constant prayer till you are +heard and answered?" + +"Yes, Sir." + +And he thought he saw that she was in earnest. + +"Perhaps the answer may not come at once it does not always; + but it will come, as surely as the sun will rise to-morrow +morning. 'Then shall we know, if we _follow on_ to know the +Lord.' But then you must be in earnest. And if you are in +earnest, is there nothing you have to do besides _praying?_" + +Ellen looked at him without making any answer. + +"When a person is in earnest, how does he show it?" + +"By doing every thing he possibly can to get what he wants." + +"Quite right," said her friend, smiling; "and has God bidden +us to do nothing besides pray for a new heart?" + +"Oh yes, Sir, he has told us to do a great many things." + +"And will he be likely to grant that prayer, Ellen, if he sees +that you do not care about displeasing him in those 'great +many things?' will he judge that you are sincere in wishing +for a new heart?" + +"Oh no, Sir." + +"Then, if you are resolved to be a Christian, you will not be +contented with praying for a new heart, but you will begin at +once to be a servant of God. You can do nothing well without +help, but you are sure the help will come; and from this good +day you will seek to know and to do the will of God, trusting +in his dear Son to perfect that which concerneth you. My +little child," said the gentleman, softly and kindly, "are you +ready to say you will do this?" + +As she hesitated, he took a little book from his pocket, and +turning over the leaves, said + +"I am going to leave you for a little while I have a few +moments' business downstairs to attend to: and I want you to +look over this hymn and think carefully of what I have been +saying, will you? and resolve what you will do." + +Ellen got off his knee, where she had been sitting all this +while, and silently taking the book, sat down in the chair he +had quitted. Tears ran fast again, and many thoughts passed +through her mind, as her eyes went over and over the words to +which he had pointed + + +"Behold the Saviour at thy door; +He gently knocks, has knock'd before, +Has waited long, is waiting still, +You treat no other friend so ill. + + +"Oh, lovely attitude! he stands +With open heart and outstretch'd hands: +Oh, matchless kindness! and he shows +This matchless kindness to his foes. + + +"Admit him for the human breast +Ne'er entertain'd so kind a guest; +Admit him or the hour's at hand +When at _His_ door, denied, you'll stand. + + +"Open my heart, Lord, enter in; +Slay every foe, and conquer sin. +Here now to thee I all resign +My body, soul, and all are thine." + + +The last two lines Ellen longed to say, but could not: the two +preceding were the very speech of her heart. + +Not more than fifteen minutes had passed when her friend came +back again. The book hung in Ellen's hand; her eyes were fixed +on the floor. + +"Well," he said, kindly, and taking her hand, "what's your +decision?" + +Ellen looked up. + +"Have you made up your mind on that matter we were talking +about?" + +"Yes, Sir," Ellen said, in a low voice, casting her eyes down +again. + +"And how have you decided, my child?" + +"I will try to do as you said, Sir." + +"You will begin to follow your Saviour, and to please him, +from this day forward?" + +"I will try, Sir," said Ellen, meeting his eyes as she spoke. +Again the look she saw made her burst into tears. She wept +violently. + +"God bless you, and help you, my dear Ellen!" said he, gently +passing his hand over her head; "but do not cry any more +you have shed too many tears this morning already. We will not +talk about this any more now." + +And he spoke only soothing and quieting words for a while to +her; and then asked if she would like to go over the boat and +see the different parts of it. Ellen's joyful agreement with +this proposal was only qualified by the fear of giving him +trouble. But he put that entirely by. + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +Leaves us in the Street. + + +The going over the boat held them a long time, for Ellen's new +friend took kind pains to explain to her whatever he thought +he could make interesting; he was amused to find how far she +pushed her inquiries into the how and the why of things. For +the time her sorrows were almost forgotten. + +"What shall we do now?" said he, when they had at last gone +through the whole "would you like to go to your friends?" + +"I haven't any friends on board, Sir," said Ellen, with a +swelling heart. + +"Haven't any friends on board! what do you mean? Are you +alone?" + +"No, Sir," said Ellen, "not exactly alone; my father put me +in the care of a lady that is going to Thirlwall; but they are +strangers and not friends." + +"Are they _un_friends? I hope you don't think, Ellen, that +strangers cannot be friends too?" + +"No, indeed, Sir, I don't," said Ellen, looking up with a face +that was fairly brilliant with its expression of gratitude and +love. But, casting it down again, she added, "But they are not +my friends, Sir." + +"Well, then," he, said smiling, "will you come with me?" + +"Oh yes, Sir! if you will let me and if I shan't be a +trouble to you, Sir." + +"Come this way," said he, "and we'll see if we cannot find a +nice place to sit down, where no one will trouble us." + +Such a place was found. And Ellen would have been quite +satisfied though the gentleman had done no more than merely +permit her to remain there, by his side; but he took out his +little Bible, and read and talked to her for some time so +pleasantly that neither her weariness nor the way could be +thought of. + +When he ceased reading to her, and began to read to himself, +weariness and faintness stole over her. She had had nothing to +eat, and had been violently excited that day. A little while +she sat in a dreamy sort of quietude then her thoughts grew +misty and the end of it was she dropped her head against the +arm of her friend, and fell fast asleep. He smiled at first, +but one look at the very pale little face changed the +expression of his own. He gently put his arm round her, and +drew her head to a better resting-place than it had chosen. + +And there she slept till the dinner-bell rang. Timmins was +sent out to look for her, but Timmins did not choose to meddle +with the grave protector Ellen seemed to have gained; and Mrs. +Dunscombe declared herself rejoiced that any other hands +should have taken the charge of her. + +After dinner Ellen and her friend went up to the promenade- +deck again, and there, for a while, they paced up and down, +enjoying the pleasant air and quick motion, and the lovely +appearance of everything in the mild hazy sunlight. Another +gentleman, however, joining them, and entering into +conversation, Ellen silently quitted her friend's hand, and +went and sat down at the side of the boat. After taking a few +turns more, and while still engaged in talking, he drew his +little hymn-book out of his pocket, and, with a smile, put it +into Ellen's hand as he passed. She gladly received it, and +spent an hour or more very pleasantly, in studying and turning +it over. At the end of that time, the stranger having left +him, Ellen's friend came and sat down by her side. + +"How do you like my little book?" said he. + +"Oh, very much indeed, Sir." + +"Then you love hymns, do you?" + +"Yes, I do Sir, dearly." + +"Do you sometimes learn them by heart?" + +"Oh yes, Sir, often. Mamma often made me. I have learnt two +since I have been sitting here." + +"Have you?" said he; "which are they?" + +"One of them is the one you showed me this morning, Sir." + +"And what is your mind now about the question I asked you this +morning?" + +Ellen cast down her eyes from his inquiring glance, and +answered, in a low tone, "Just what it was then, Sir." + +"Have you been thinking of it since?" + +"I have thought of it the whole time, Sir." + +"And are you resolved you will obey Christ henceforth?" + +"I am resolved to try, Sir." + +"My dear Ellen, if you are in earnest, you will not try in +vain. He never yet failed any that sincerely sought him. Have +you a Bible?" + +"Oh yes Sir! a beautiful one; Mamma gave it to me the other +day." + +He took the hymn-book from her hand, and turning over the +leaves, marked several places in pencil. + +"I am going to give you this," he said, "that it may serve to +remind you of what we have talked of to-day, and of your +resolution." + +Ellen flushed high with pleasure. + +"I have put this mark," said he, showing her a particular one, +"in a few places of this book, for you; wherever you find it, +you may know there is something I want you to take special +notice of. There are some other marks here too, but they are +mine _these_ are for you." + +"Thank you, Sir," said Ellen, delighted; "I shall not forget." + +He knew from her face what she meant not the _marks_. + +The day wore on, thanks to the unwearied kindness of her +friend, with great comparative comfort to Ellen. Late in the +afternoon they were resting from a long walk up and down the +deck. + +"What have you got in this package that you take such care +of?" said he, smiling. + +"Oh, candies," said Ellen; "I am always forgetting them. I +meant to ask you to take some. Will you have some, Sir?" + +"Thank you. What are they?" + +"Almost all kinds, I believe, Sir I think the almonds are +the best." + +He took one. + +"Pray, take some more, Sir," said Ellen "I don't care for +them in the least." + +"Then I am more of a child than you in this, at any rate +for I do care for them. But I have a little headache to-day; I +mustn't meddle with sweets." + +"Then take some for to-morrow, Sir please do," said Ellen, +dealing them out very freely. + +"Stop, stop!" said he "not a bit more; this won't do I +must put some of these back again; you'll want them to-morrow, +too." + +"I don't think I shall," said Ellen; "I haven't wanted to +touch them to-day." + +"Oh, you'll feel brighter to-morrow, after a night's sleep. +But aren't you afraid of catching cold? This wind is blowing +pretty fresh, and you've been bonnetless all day what's the +reason?" + +Ellen looked down, and coloured a good deal. + +"What's the matter?" said he, laughing; "has any mischief +befallen your bonnet?" + +"No, Sir," said Ellen, in a low tone, her colour mounting +higher and higher "it was laughed at, this morning." + +"Laughed at! who laughed at it?" + +"Mrs. Dunscombe, and her daughter, and her maid." + +"Did they! I don't see much reason in that, I confess. What +did they think was the matter with it?" + +"I don't know, Sir; they said it was outlandish, and what a +figure I looked in it!" + +"Well, certainly that was not very polite. Put it on, and let +me see." Ellen obeyed. + +"I am not the best judge of ladies' bonnets, it is true," said +he, "but I can see nothing about it that is not perfectly +proper and suitable nothing in the world. So that is what +has kept you bareheaded all day? Didn't your mother wish you +to wear that bonnet?" + +"Yes, Sir." + +"Then that ought to be enough for you. Will you be ashamed of +what she approved, because some people, that haven't probably +half her sense, choose to make merry with it? is that +right?" he said, gently. "Is that honouring her as she +deserves?" + +"No, Sir," said Ellen, looking up into his face, "but I never +thought of that before I am sorry." + +"Never mind being laughed at, my child. If your mother says a +thing is right, that's enough for you let them laugh." + +"I won't be ashamed of my bonnet any more," said Ellen, trying +it on; "but they made me very unhappy about it, and very +angry, too." + +"I am sorry for that," said her friend, gravely. "Have you +quite got over it, Ellen?" + +"Oh yes, Sir long ago." + +"Are you sure?" + +"I am not angry now, Sir." + +"Is there no unkindness left towards the people who laughed at +you?" + +"I don't like them much," said Ellen "how can I?" + +"You cannot, of course, _like_ the company of ill-behaved +people, and I do not wish that you should; but you can and +ought to feel just as kindly disposed towards them as if they +had never offended you just as willing and inclined to +please them or do them good. Now, could you offer Miss +what's her name? some of your candies with as hearty +goodwill as you could before she laughed at you?" + +"No, Sir, I couldn't. I don't feel as if I ever wished to see +them again." + +"Then, my dear Ellen, you have something to do, if you were in +earnest in the resolve you made this morning. 'If ye forgive +unto men their trespasses, my Heavenly Father will also +forgive you; but if ye forgive not men their trespasses, +neither will my Father forgive your trespasses.' " + +He was silent, and so was Ellen, for some time. His words had +raised a struggle in her mind; and she kept her face turned +towards the shore, so that her bonnet shielded it from view; +but she did not in the least know what she was looking at. The +sun had been some time descending through a sky of cloudless +splendour, and now was just kissing the mountain-tops of the +western horizon. Slowly and with great majesty he sank behind +the distant blue line, till only a glittering edge appeared +and then that was gone. There were no clouds hanging over his +setting, to be gilded and purpled by the parting rays, but a +region of glory long remained, to show where his path had +been. + +The eyes of both were fixed upon this beautiful scene, but +only one was thinking of it. Just as the last glimpse of the +sun had disappeared, Ellen turned her face, bright again, +towards her companion. He was intently gazing towards the +hills that had so drawn Ellen's attention a while ago, and +thinking still more intently, it was plain; so, though her +mouth had been open to speak, she turned her face away again +as suddenly as it had just sought his. He saw the motion, +however. + +"What is it, Ellen?" he said. + +Ellen looked again, with a smile. + +"I have been thinking, Sir, of what you said to me." + +"Well?" said he, smiling, in answer. + +I can't _like_ Mrs. Dunscombe and Miss Dunscombe as well as if +they hadn't done so to me, but I will try to behave as if +nothing had been the matter, and be as kind and polite to them +as if they had been kind and polite to me." + +"And how about the sugar-plums?" + +"The sugar-plums! Oh," said Ellen, laughing, "Miss Margaret +may have them all, if she likes I'm quite willing. Not but I +had rather give them to you, Sir." + +"You give me something a great deal better when I see you try +to overcome a wrong feeling. You mustn't rest till you get rid +of every bit of ill-will that you feel for this and any other +unkindness you may suffer. You cannot do it yourself, but you +know who can help you. I hope you have asked Him, Ellen?" + +"I have? Sir, indeed." + +"Keep asking Him, and he will do everything for you." + +A silence of some length followed. Ellen began to feel very +much the fatigue of this exciting day, and sat quietly by her +friend's side leaning against him. The wind had changed about +sundown, and now blew light from the south, so that they did +not feel it all. + +The light gradually faded away, till only a silver glow in the +west showed where the sun had set, and the sober gray of +twilight was gently stealing over all the bright colours of +sky, and river, and hill; now and then a twinkling light began +to appear along the shores. + +You are very tired," said Ellen's friend to her "I see you +are. A little more patience, my child we shall be at our +journey's end before a very great while." + +"I am almost sorry," said Ellen, "though I _am_ tired. We don't +go in the steamboat to-morrow, do we, Sir?" + +"No in the stage." + +"Shall _you_ be in the stage, Sir?" + +"No, my child. But I am glad you and I have spent this day +together." + +"Oh, Sir," said Ellen, "I don't know what I should have done +if it hadn't been for you." + +There was silence again, and the gentleman almost thought his +little charge had fallen asleep, she sat so still. But she +suddenly spoke again, and in a tone of voice that showed sleep +was far away. + +"I wish I knew where Mamma is now." + +"I do not doubt, my child, from what you told me, that it is +well with her, wherever she is. Let that thought comfort you +whenever you remember her." + +"She must want me so much," said poor Ellen, in a scarcely +audible voice. + +"She has not lost her best friend, my child." + +"I know it, Sir," said Ellen, with whom grief was now getting +the mastery "but oh! it's just near the time when I used to +make the tea for her who'll make it now? she'll want me +oh, what shall I do!" and, overcome completely by this +recollection, she threw herself into her friend's arms and +sobbed aloud. + +There was no reasoning against this. He did not attempt it; +but with the utmost gentleness and tenderness endeavoured, as +soon as he might, to soothe and calm her. He succeeded at +last; with a sort of despairing submission, Ellen ceased her +tears, and arose to her former position. But he did not rest +from his kind endeavours till her mind was really eased and +comforted which, however, was not long before the lights of +the city began to appear in the distance. And with them +appeared a dusky figure ascending the stairs, which, upon +nearer approach, proved by the voice to be Timmins. + +"Is this Miss Montgomery?" said she "I can't see, I am sure, +it's so dark. Is that you, Miss Montgomery?" + +"Yes," said Ellen, "it is I; do you want me?" + +"If you please, Miss, Mrs. Dunscombe wants you to come right +down; we're almost in, she says, Miss." + +"I'll come directly, Miss Timmins," said Ellen. "Don't wait +for me I won't be a minute I'll come directly." + +Miss Timmins retired, standing still a good deal in awe of the +grave personage whose protection Ellen seemed to have gained. + +"I must go," said Ellen, standing up and extending her hand; +"good-bye, Sir." + +She could hardly say it. He drew her towards him and kissed +her cheek once or twice: it was well he did; for it sent a +thrill of pleasure to Ellen's heart that she did not get over +that evening, nor all the next day. + +"God bless you, my child," he said gravely, but cheerfully; +"and good-night! you will feel better, I trust, when you +have had some rest and refreshment." + +He took care of her down the stairs, and saw her safe to the +very door of the saloon, and within it, and there again took +her hand, and kindly bade her good-night. + +Ellen entered the saloon only to sit down and cry as if her +heart would break. She saw and heard nothing till Mrs. +Dunscombe's voice bade her make haste and be ready, for they +were going ashore in five minutes. + +And in less than five minutes, ashore they went. + +"Which hotel, Maam?" asked the servant who carried her +baggage "the Eagle, or Foster's?" + +"The Eagle," said Mrs. Dunscombe. + +"Come this way, then, Maam," said another man, the driver of +the Eagle carriage; "now, Maam, step in, if you please." + +Mrs. Dunscombe put her daughter in. + +"But it's full!" said she to the driver; "there isn't room for +another one!" + +"Oh yes, Maam, there is," said the driver, holding the door +open "there's plenty of room for you, Maam just get in, +Maam, if you please we'll be there in less than two +minutes." + +"Timmins, you'll have to walk," said Mrs. Dunscombe. "Miss +Montgomery, would you rather ride, or walk with Timmins?" + +"How far is it, Maam?" said Ellen. + +"Oh, bless me! how can I tell how far it is? I don't know, I +am sure not far; say, quick would you rather walk or +ride?" + +"I would rather walk, Maam, if you please," said Ellen. + +"Very well," said Mrs. Dunscombe, getting in; "Timmins, you +know the way." + +And off went the coach with its load; but, tired as she was, +Ellen did not wish herself in it. + +Picking a passage-way out of the crowd, she and Timmins now +began to make their way up one of the comparatively quiet +streets. + +It was a strange place that she felt. She had lived long +enough in the place she had left, to feel at home there: but +here she came to no street or crossing that she had ever seen +before; nothing looked familiar; all reminded her that she was +a traveller. Only one pleasant thing Ellen saw on her walk, +and that was the sky; and that looked just as it did at home; +and very often Ellen's gaze was fixed upon it, much to the +astonishment of Miss Timmins, who had to be not a little +watchful for the safety of Ellen's feet while her eyes were +thus employed. She had taken a great fancy to Ellen, however, +and let her do as she pleased, keeping all her wonderment to +herself. + +"Take care, Miss Ellen!" cried Timmins, giving her arm a great +pull; "I declare I just saved you out of that gutter! Poor +child! you are dreadfully tired, ain't you?" + +"Yes, I am very tired, Miss Timmins," said Ellen; "have we +much farther to go?" + +"Not a great deal, dear; cheer up! we are almost there. I hope +Mrs. Dunscombe will want to ride one of these days herself, +and can't." + +"Oh, don't say so, Miss Timmins," said Ellen, "I don't wish +so, indeed." + +"Well, I should think you would," said Timmins; "I should +think you'd be fit to poison her; _I_ should, I know, if I was +in your place." + +"Oh, no," said Ellen, "that wouldn't be right that would be +very wrong." + +"Wrong!" said Timmins; "why would it be wrong? she hasn't +behaved good to you." + +"Yes," said Ellen; "but don't you know the Bible says, if we +do not forgive people what they do to us, we shall not be +forgiven ourselves?" + +"Well, I declare," said Miss Timmins, "you beat all! But +here's the Eagle hotel at last, and I am glad for your sake, +dear." + +Ellen was shown into the ladies' parlour. She was longing for +a place to rest, but she saw directly it was not to be there. +The room was large and barely furnished; and round it were +scattered part of the carriage-load of people that had arrived +a quarter of an hour before her. They were waiting till their +rooms should be ready. Ellen silently found herself a chair, +and sat down to wait with the rest, as patiently as she might. +Few of them had as much cause for impatience; but she was the +only perfectly mute and uncomplaining one there. Her two +companions, however, between them, fully made up her share of +fretting. At length a servant brought the welcome news that +their room was ready, and the three marched up stairs. It made +Ellen's heart very glad when they got there, to find a good- +sized, cheerful-looking bed-room, comfortably furnished, with +a bright fire burning, large curtains let down to the floor, +and a nice warm carpet upon it. Taking off her bonnet, and +only that, she sat down on a low cushion by the corner of the +fire-place, and leaning her head against the jamb, fell asleep +almost immediately. Mrs. Dunscombe set about arranging herself +for the tea-table. + +"Well!" she said "one day of this precious journey is over!" + +"Does Ellen go with us to-morrow, Mamma?" + +"Oh, yes! quite to Thirlwall." + +"Well, you haven't had much plague with her to-day, Mamma." + +"No I am sure I am much obliged to whoever has kept her out +of my way." + +"Where is she going to sleep to-night?" asked Miss Margaret. + +"I don't know, I am sure I suppose I shall have to have a +cot brought in here for her." + +"What a plague!" said Miss Margaret. "It will lumber up the +room so! There's no place to put it. Couldn't she sleep with +Timmins?" + +"Oh, she _could_, of course just as well as not only people +would make such a fuss about it it wouldn't do; we must bear +it for once. I'll try and not be caught in such a scrape +again." + +"How provoking!" said Miss Margaret "how came father to do +so, without asking you about it?" + +"Oh, he was bewitched, I suppose men always are. Look here, +Margaret I can't go down to tea with a train of children at +my heels. I shall leave you and Ellen up here, and I'll send +up your tea to you." + +"Oh no, Mamma!" said Margaret, eagerly "I want to go down +with you. Look here, Mamma! she's asleep, and you needn't wake +her up that's excuse enough; you can leave her to have her +tea up here, and let me go down with you." + +"Well," said Mrs. Dunscombe, "I don't care but make haste to +get ready, for I expect every minute when the tea-bell will +ring." + +"Timmins! Timmins!" cried Margaret, "come here and fix me +quick! and step softly, will you? or you'll wake that +young one up, and then, you see, I shall have to stay up +stairs." + +This did not happen, however. Ellen's sleep was much too deep +to be easily disturbed. The tea-bell itself, loud and shrill +as it was, did not even make her eyelids tremble. After Mrs. +and Miss Dunscombe were gone down, Timmins employed herself a +little while in putting all things about the room to rights; +and then sat down to take _her_ rest, dividing her attention +between the fire and Ellen, towards whom she seemed to feel +more and more kindness, as she saw that she was likely to +receive it from no one else. Presently came a knock at the +door "The tea for the young lady," on a waiter. Miss Timmins +silently took the tray from the man, and shut the door. +"Well!" said she to herself "if that ain't a pretty supper +to send up to a child that has gone two hundred miles to-day, +and had no breakfast! a cup of tea, cold enough, I'll +warrant bread and butter enough for a bird and two little +slices of ham as thick as a wafer! Well, I just wish Mrs. +Dunscombe had to eat it herself, and nothing else! I'm not +going to wake her up for that, I know, till I see whether +something better ain't to be had for love or money. So just +you sleep on, darling, till I see what I can do for you." + +In great indignation, down stairs went Miss Timmins; and at +the foot of the stairs she met a rosy-cheeked, pleasant-faced +girl coming up. + +"Are you the chambermaid?" said Timmins. + +"I'm _one_ of the chambermaids," said the girl, smiling; +"there's three of us in this house, dear." + +"Well, I am a stranger here," said Timmins, "but I want you to +help me, and I am sure you will. I've got a dear little girl +up stairs that I want some supper for she's a sweet child, +and she's under the care of some proud folks here in the tea- +room that think it's too much trouble to look at her; and +they've sent her up about supper enough for a mouse, and she's +half-starving; she lost her breakfast this morning by their +ugliness. Now ask one of the waiters to give me something nice +for her, will you? there's a good girl." + +"James!" said the girl, in a loud whisper to one of the +waiters, who was crossing the hall. He instantly stopped and +came towards them, tray in hand, and making several extra- +polite bows as he drew near. + +"What's on the supper-table, James?" said the smiling damsel. + +"Everything that ought to be there, Miss Johns," said the man +with another flourish. + +"Come, stop your nonsense," said the girl, "and tell me quick + I'm in a hurry." + +"It's a pleasure to perform your commands, Miss Johns. I'll +give you the whole bill of fare. There's a very fine +beefsteak, fricasseed chickens, stewed oysters, sliced ham, +cheese, preserved quinces, with the usual complement of bread +and toast, and muffins, and dough-nuts, and new-year-cake, and +plenty of butter likewise salt and pepper likewise tea and +coffee, and sugar likewise " + +"Hush!" said the girl. "Do stop, will you?" and then +laughing and turning to Miss Timmins, she added, "What will +you have?" + +"I guess I'll have some of the chickens and oysters," said +Timmins; "that will be the nicest for her and a muffin or +two." + +"Now, James, do you hear?" said the chambermaid; "I want you +to get me now, right away, a nice little supper of chickens +and oysters, and a muffin it's for a lady upstairs. Be as +quick as you can." + +"I should be very happy to execute impossibilities for you, +Miss Johns, but Mrs. Custers is at the table herself." + +"Very well that's nothing she'll think it's for somebody +upstairs and so it is." + +"Ay, but the upstairs people is Tim's business I should be +hauled over the coals directly." + +"Then ask Tim, will you? How slow you are! Now, James, if you +don't, I won't speak to you again." + +"Till to-morrow? I couldn't stand that. It shall be done, +Miss Johns, instantum." + +Bowing and smiling, away went James, leaving the girls +giggling on the staircase, and highly gratified. + +"He always does what I want him to," said the good-humoured +chambermaid, "but he generally makes a fuss about it first. +He'll be back directly with what you want." + +Till he came, Miss Timmins filled up the time with telling her +new friend as much as she knew about Ellen and Ellen's +hardships; with which Miss Johns was so much interested, that +she declared she must go up and see her; and when James in a +few minutes returned with a tray of nice things, the two women +proceeded together to Mrs. Dunscombe's room. Ellen had moved +so far as to put herself on the floor with her head on the +cushion for a pillow, but she was as sound asleep as ever. + +"Just see now!" said Timmins "there she lies on the floor +enough to give her her death of cold; poor child! she's tired +to death and Mrs. Dunscombe made her walk up from the +steamboat to-night, rather than do it herself; I declare I +wished the coach would break down, only for the other folks. I +am glad I have got a good supper for her, though thank you, +Miss Johns." + +"And I'll tell you what, I'll go and get you some nice hot +tea," said the chambermaid, who was quite touched by the sight +of Ellen's little pale face. + +"Thank you," said Timmins "you're a darling. This is as cold +as a stone." + +While the chambermaid went forth on her kind errand, Timmins +stooped down by the little sleeper's side. "Miss Ellen!" she +said "Miss Ellen! wake up, dear wake up, and get some +supper come! you'll feel a great deal better for it you +shall sleep as much as you like afterwards." + +Slowly Ellen raised herself, and opened her eyes. "Where am +I?" she asked looking bewildered. + +"Here, dear," said Timmins "wake up and eat something it +will do you good." + +With a sigh poor Ellen arose and came to the fire. + +"You're tired to death, ain't you?" said Timmins. + +"Not quite," said Ellen. "I shouldn't mind that, if my legs +would not ache so and my head, too." + +"Now I'm sorry!" said Timmins "but your head will be better +for eating, I know. See here I've got you some nice chicken, +and oysters, and I'll make this muffin hot for you by the fire + and here comes your tea. Miss Johns, I'm your servant, and +I'll be your bridesmaid with the greatest pleasure in life. +Now, Miss Ellen, dear, just you put yourself on that low +chair, and I'll fix you off." + +Ellen thanked her, and did as she was told. Timmins brought +another chair to her side, and placed the tray with her supper +upon it, and prepared her muffin and tea; and having fairly +seen Ellen begin to eat, she next took off her shoes, and +seating herself on the carpet before her, she made her lap the +resting-place for Ellen's feet, chafing them in her hands, and +heating them at the fire; saying there was nothing like +rubbing and roasting to get rid of the leg-ache. By the help +of the supper, the fire, and Timmins, Ellen mended rapidly. +With tears in her eyes, she thanked the latter for her +kindness. + +"Now just don't say one word about that," said Timmins "I +never was famous for kindness, as I know; but people must be +kind sometimes in their lives unless they happen to be made +of stone, which I believe some people are. You feel better, +don't you?" + +"A great deal," said Ellen. "Oh, if I only could go to bed +now!" + +"And you shall," said Timmins. "I know about your bed, and +I'll go right away and have it brought in." And away she went. + +While she was gone, Ellen drew from her pocket her little +hymn-book, to refresh herself with looking at it. How quickly +and freshly it brought back to her mind the friend who had +given it, and his conversations with her, and the resolve she +had made! and again Ellen's whole heart offered the prayer she +had repeated many times that day + + +"Open my heart, Lord, enter in; +Slay every foe, and conquer sin." + + +Her head was still bent upon her little book when Timmins +entered. Timmins was not alone Miss Johns and a little cot- +bedstead came in with her. The latter was put at the foot of +Mrs. Dunscombe's bed, and speedily made up by the chambermaid, +while Timmins undressed Ellen; and very soon all the sorrows +and vexations of the day were forgotten in a sound, refreshing +sleep; but not till she had removed her little hymn-book from +the pocket of her frock to a safe station under her pillow; it +was with her hand upon it that Ellen went to sleep; and it was +in her hand still when she was waked the next morning. + +The next day was spent in a wearisome stage coach, over a +rough, jolting road. Ellen's companions did nothing to make +her way pleasant, but she sweetened theirs with her sugar- +plums. Somewhat mollified, perhaps, after that, Miss Margaret +condescended to enter into conversation with her, and Ellen +underwent a thorough cross-examination as to all her own and +her parents' affairs, past, present, and future; and likewise +as to all that could be known of her yesterday's friend, till +she was heartily worried, and out of patience. + +It was just five o'clock when they reached her stopping-place. +Ellen knew of no particular house to go to, so Mrs. Dunscombe +set her down at the door of the principal inn of the town, +called the "Star," of Thirlwall. + +The driver smacked his whip, and away went the stage again, +and she was left, standing alone, beside her trunk, before the +piazza of the inn, watching Timmins, who was looking back at +her out of the stage window, nodding and waving good-bye. + + +CHAPTER IX. + +The little Queen in the Arm-Chair. + + +Ellen had been whirled along over the roads for so many hours + the rattle of the stage-coach had filled her ears for so +long that now, suddenly still and quiet, she felt half- +stunned. She stood with a kind of dreamy feeling, looking +after the departing stage-coach. In it there were three people +whose faces she knew, and she could not count a fourth within +many a mile. One of those was a friend, too, as the fluttering +handkerchief of poor Miss Timmins gave token still. Yet Ellen +did not wish herself back in the coach, although she continued +to stand and gaze after it as it rattled off at a great rate +down the little street, its huge body lumbering up and down +every now and then, reminding her of sundry uncomfortable +jolts; till the horses making a sudden turn to the right, it +disappeared round a corner. Still for a minute Ellen watched +the whirling cloud of dust it had left behind; but then the +feeling of strangeness and loneliness came over her, and her +heart sank. She cast a look up and down the street. The +afternoon was lovely; the slant beams of the setting sun came +back from gilded windows, and the houses and chimney-tops of +the little town were in a glow; but she saw nothing bright +anywhere; in all the glory of the setting sun the little town +looked strange and miserable. There was no sign of her having +been expected; nobody was waiting to meet her. What was to be +done next? Ellen had not the slightest idea. + +Her heart growing fainter and fainter, she turned again to the +inn. A tall awkward young countryman, with a cap set on one +side of his head, was busying himself with sweeping off the +floor of the piazza, but in a very leisurely manner; and +between every two strokes of his broom he was casting long +looks at Ellen, evidently wondering who she was, and what she +could want there. Ellen saw it, and hoped he would ask her in +words, for she could not answer his _looks_ of curiosity but +she was disappointed. As he reached the end of the piazza, and +gave his broom two or three knocks against the edge of the +boards to clear it of dust, he indulged himself with one good, +long, finishing look at Ellen, and then she saw he was going +to take himself and his broom into the house. So in despair +she ran up the two or three low steps of the piazza and +presented herself before him. He stopped short. + +"Will you please to tell me, Sir," said poor Ellen, "if Miss +Emerson is here?" + +"Miss Emerson?" said he "what Miss Emerson?" + +"I don't know, Sir Miss Emerson that lives not far from +Thirlwall." + +Eyeing Ellen from head to foot, the man then trailed his broom +into the house. Ellen followed him. + +"Mr. Forbes!" said he "Mr. Forbes! do you know anything of +Miss Emerson?" + +"What Miss Emerson?" said another man, with a big red face and +a big round body, showing himself in a doorway which he nearly +filled. + +"Miss Emerson that lives a little way out of town." + +"Miss Fortune Emerson? yes, I know her. What of her?" + +"Has she been here to-day?" + +"Here? what, in town? No not as I've seen or heard. Why, who +wants her?" + +"This little girl." + +And the man with the broom stepping back, disclosed Ellen to +the view of the red-faced landlord. He advanced a step or two +towards her. + +"What do you want with Miss Fortune, little one?" said he. + +"I expected she would meet me here, Sir," said Ellen + +"Where have you come from?" + +"From New York." + +"The stage set her down just now," put in the other man. + +"And you thought Miss Fortune would meet you, did you?" + +"Yes, Sir; she was to meet me and take me home." + +"Take you home! Are you going to Miss Fortune's home?" + +"Yes, Sir." + +"Why, you don't belong to her, any way, do you?" + +"No, Sir," said Ellen, "but she's my aunt." + +"She's your what?" + +"My aunt, Sir my father's sister." + +"You father's sister! You ben't the daughter of Morgan +Montgomery, be you?" + +"Yes, I am," said Ellen, half-smiling. + +"And you are come to make a visit to Miss Fortune, eh?" + +"Yes," said Ellen, smiling no longer. + +"And Miss Fortune han't come up to meet you! that's real +shabby of her; and how to get you down there to-night, I am +sure is more than I can tell." And he shouted, "Wife!" + +"What's the matter, Mr. Forbes?" said a fat landlady, +appearing in the doorway, which she filled near as well as her +husband would have done. + +"Look here," said Mr. Forbes "here's Morgan Montgomery's +daughter come to pay a visit to her aunt Fortune Emerson. +Don't you think she'll be glad to see her?" + +Mr. Forbes put this question with rather a curious look at his +wife. She didn't answer him. She only looked at Ellen, looked +grave, and gave a queer little nod of her head, which meant, +Ellen could not make out what. + +"Now, what's to be done?" continued Mr. Forbes. "Miss Fortune +was to have come up to meet her, but she ain't here, and I +don't know how in the world I can take the child down there +to-night. The horses are both out to plough, you know; and +besides, the tire is come off that waggon-wheel. I couldn't +possibly use it. And then it's a great question in my mind +what Miss Fortune would say to me. I should get paid, I +s'pose?" + +"Yes, you'd get paid," said his wife, with another little +shake of her head; "but whether it would be the kind of pay +you'd like, _I_ don't know." + +"Well, what's to be done, wife? Keep the child overnight, and +send word down yonder?" + +"No," said Mrs. Forbes, "I'll tell you. I think I saw Van +Brunt go by two or three hours ago with the ox-cart, and I +guess he's somewhere up town yet; I han't seen him go back. He +can take the child home with him. Sam!" shouted Mrs. Forbes +"Sam! here! Sam, run up street directly, and see if you +see Mr. Van Brunt's ox-cart standing anywhere I dare say +he's at Mr. Miller's, or maybe at Mr. Hammersley's, the +blacksmith and ask him to stop here before he goes home. Now +hurry! and don't run over him, and then come back and tell +me he ain't in town." + +Mrs. Forbes herself followed Sam to the door, and cast an +exploring look in every direction. + +"I don't see no signs of him up nor down," said she, +returning to Ellen; "but I'm pretty sure he ain't gone home. +Come in here come in here, dear, and make yourself +comfortable; it'll be a while yet, maybe, afore Mr. Van Brunt +comes, but he'll be along by-and-by; come in here and rest +yourself." + +She opened a door, and Ellen followed her into a large +kitchen, where a fire was burning, that showed wood must be +plenty in those regions. Mrs. Forbes placed a low chair for +her on the hearth, but herself remained standing by the side +of the fire, looking earnestly, and with a good deal of +interest, upon the little stranger. Ellen drew her white +bonnet from her head, and sitting down with a wearied air, +gazed sadly into the flames that were shedding their light +upon her. + +"Are you going to stop a good while with Miss Fortune?" said +Mrs. Forbes. + +"I don't know, Maam yes, I believe so," said Ellen, +faintly. + +"Han't you got no mother?" asked Mrs. Forbes, suddenly, after +a pause. + +"Oh, yes!" said Ellen, looking up. But the question had +touched the sore spot. Her head sank on her hands, and "Oh, +Mamma!" was uttered with a bitterness that even Mrs. Forbes +could feel. + +"Now, what made me ask you that!" said she. "Don't cry! +don't, love; poor little dear! you're as pale as a sheet; +you're tired, I know ain't you? Now, cheer up, do I can't +bear to see you cry. You've come a great way to-day, han't +you?" + +Ellen nodded her head, but could give no answer. + +"I know what will do you good," said Mrs. Forbes, presently, +getting up from the crouching posture she had taken to comfort +Ellen; "you want something to eat that's the matter. I'll +warrant you're half starved; no wonder you feel bad. Poor +little thing! you shall have something good directly." + +And away she bustled to get it. Left alone, Ellen's tears +flowed a few minutes very fast. She felt forlorn; and she was, +besides, as Mrs. Forbes opined, both tired and faint. But she +did not wish to be found weeping; she checked her tears, and +was sitting again quietly before the fire when the landlady +returned. + +Mrs. Forbes had a great bowl of milk in one hand, and a plate +of bread in the other, which she placed on the kitchen table, +and setting a chair, called Ellen to come and partake of it. + +"Come, dear here is something that will do you good. I +thought there was a piece of pie in the buttery, and so there +was, but Mr. Forbes must have got hold of it, for it ain't +there now; and there ain't a bit of cake in the house for you; +but I thought maybe you would like this as well as anything. +Come!" + +Ellen thanked her, but said she did not want anything. + +"Oh, yes, you do," said Mrs. Forbes; "I know better. You're as +pale as I don't know what. Come! this'll put roses in your +cheeks. Don't you like bread and milk?" + +"Yes, very much indeed, Maam," said Ellen; "but I'm not +hungry." + +She rose, however, and came to the table. + +"Oh, well, try to eat a bit, just to please me. It's real good +country milk not a bit of cream off. You don't get such milk +as that in the city, I guess. That's right! I see the roses +coming back to your cheeks already?" + +"Is your pa in New York now?" + +"Yes, Maam." + +"You expect your pa and ma up to Thirlwall by-and-by, don't +you?" + +"No, Maam." + +Mrs. Forbes was surprised, and longed to ask why not, and what +Ellen had come for; but the shade that had passed over her +face as she answered the last question, warned the landlady +she was getting upon dangerous ground. + +"Does your aunt expect you to-night?" + +"I believe so, Maam I don't know she was to have met me; +papa said he would write." + +"Oh, well! maybe something hindered her from coming. It's no +matter; you'll get home just as well. Mr. Van Brunt will be +here soon, I guess; it's 'most time for him to be along." + +She went to the front door to look out for him, but returned +without any news. A few minutes passed in silence, for, though +full of curiosity, the good landlady dared not ask what she +wanted to know, for fear of again exciting the sorrow of her +little companion. She contented herself with looking at Ellen, +who, on her part, much rested and refreshed, turned from the +table, and was again, though somewhat less sadly, gazing into +the fire. + +Presently the great wooden clock struck half-past five, with a +whirring, rickety voice, for all the world like a hoarse +grasshopper. Ellen at first wondered where it came from, and +was looking at the clumsy machine, that reached nearly from +the floor of the kitchen to the ceiling, when a door at the +other end of the room opened, and "Good day, Mrs. Forbes," in +a rough but not unpleasant voice, brought her head quickly +round in that direction. There stood a large, strong-built +man, with an ox-whip in his hand. He was well made, and rather +handsome, but there was something of heaviness in the air of +both face and person mixed with his certainly good-humoured +expression. His dress was as rough as his voice a coarse +gray frock-coat, green velveteen pantaloons, and a fur cap +that had seen its best days some time ago. + +"Good day, Mrs. Forbes," said this personage; "Sam said you +wanted me to stop as I went along." + +"Ah, how d'ye do, Mr. Van Brunt?" said the landlady, rising +"you've got the ox-cart here with you, han't you?" + +"Yes I've got the ox-cart," said the person addressed. "I +came in town for a barrel of flour; and then the near ox had +lost both his fore-shoes off, and I had to go over there; and +Hammersley has kept me a precious long time. What's wanting, +Mrs. Forbes? I can't stop." + +"You've no load in the cart, have you?" said the landlady. + +"No; I should have had, though, but Miller had no shorts nor +fresh flour, nor won't till next week. What's to go down, Mrs. +Forbes?" + +"The nicest load ever you carried, Mr. Van Brunt. Here's a +little lady come to stay with Miss Fortune. She's a daughter +of Captain Montgomery, Miss Fortune's brother, you know. She +came by the stage a little while ago, and the thing is now to +get her down to-night. She can go in the cart, can't she?" + +Mr. Van Brunt looked a little doubtful, and pulling off his +cap with one hand, while he scratched his head with the other, +he examined Ellen from head to foot, much as if she had been +some great bale of goods, and he were considering whether his +cart would hold her or not. + +"Well," said he at length, "I don't know but she can; but +there ain't nothing on 'arth for her to sit down upon." + +"Oh, never mind; I'll fix that," said Mrs. Forbes. "Is there +any straw in the bottom of the cart?" + +"Not a bit." + +"Well, I'll fix it," said Mrs. Forbes. "You get her trunk into +the cart, will you, Mr. Van Brunt? and I'll see to the rest." + +Mr. Van Brunt moved off without another word, to do what was +desired of him apparently quite confounded at having a +passenger instead of his more wonted load of bags and barrels. +And his face still continued to wear the singular doubtful +expression it had put on at first hearing the news. Ellen's +trunk was quickly hoisted in, however; and Mrs. Forbes +presently appeared with a little arm-chair, which Mr. Van +Brunt, with an approving look, bestowed in the cart, planting +it with its back against the trunk to keep it steady. Mrs. +Forbes then raising herself on tiptoe by the side of the cart, +took a view of the arrangements. + +"That won't do yet," said she; "her feet will be cold on that +bare floor, and 'tain't over clean neither. Here, Sally! run +up and fetch me that piece of carpet you'll find lying at the +top of the back stairs. "Now, hurry! Now, Mr. Van Brunt, I +depend upon you to get my things back again; will you see and +bring 'em the first time you come in town?" + +"I'll see about it. But what if I can't get hold of them!" +answered the person addressed, with a half-smile. + +"Oh," said Mrs. Forbes, with another, "I leave that to you; +you have your ways and means. Now, just spread this carpet +down nicely under her chair; and then she'll be fixed. Now, my +darling, you'll ride like a queen. But how are you going to +get in? Will you let Mr. Van Brunt lift you up?" + +Ellen's "Oh, no, Maam if you please!" was accompanied with +such an evident shrinking from the proposal, that Mrs. Forbes +did not press it. A chair was brought from the kitchen, and by +making a long step from it to the top of the wheel, and then +to the edge of the cart, Ellen was at length safely stowed in +her place. Kind Mrs. Forbes then stretched herself up over the +side of the cart to shake hands with her, and bid her good- +bye, telling her again she would ride like a queen. Ellen +answered only, "Good-bye, Maam;" but it was said with a look +of so much sweetness, and eyes swimming half in sadness and +half in gratefulness, that the good landlady could not forget +it. + +"I do think," said she, when she went back to her husband, +"that is the dearest little thing, about, I ever did see." + +"Humph!" said her husband, "I reckon Miss Fortune will think +so too." + +The doubtful look came back to Mrs. Forbes' face, and, with +another little, grave shake of her head, she went into the +kitchen. + +"How kind she is! how good every body is to me!" thought +little Ellen, as she moved off in state in her chariot drawn +by oxen. Quite a contrast this new way of travelling was to +the noisy stage and swift steamer. Ellen did not know at first +whether to like or dislike it; but she came to the conclusion +that it was very funny, and a remarkably amusing way of +getting along. There was one disadvantage about it certainly +their rate of travel was very slow. Ellen wondered her +charioteer did not make his animals go faster; but she soon +forgot their lazy progress in the interest of novel sights and +new scenes. + +Slowly, very slowly, the good oxen drew the cart and the +little queen in the arm chair out of the town, and they +entered upon the open country. The sun had already gone down +when they left the inn, and the glow of his setting had faded +a good deal by the time they got quite out of the town; but +light enough was left still to delight Ellen with the pleasant +look of the country. It was a lovely evening, and quiet as +summer; not a breath stirring. The leaves were all off the +trees; the hills were brown; but the soft, warm light that +still lingered upon them forbade any look of harshness or +dreariness. These hills lay towards the west, and at Thirlwall +were not more than two miles distant, but sloping off more to +the west as the range extended in a southerly direction. +Between, the ground was beautifully broken. Rich fields and +meadows lay on all sides, sometimes level, and sometimes with +a soft, wavy surface, where Ellen thought it must be charming +to run up and down. Every now and then these were varied by a +little rising ground, capped with a piece of woodland; and +beautiful trees, many of them, were seen standing alone, +especially by the roadside. All had a cheerful, pleasant look. +The houses were very scattered; in the whole way they passed +but few. Ellen's heart regularly began to beat when they came +in sight of one, and "I wonder if that is aunt Fortune's +house!" "perhaps it is!" or, "I hope it is not!" were the +thoughts that rose to her mind. But slowly the oxen brought +her abreast of the houses, one after another, and slowly they +passed on beyond, and there was no sign of getting home yet. +Their way was through pleasant lanes towards the south, but +constantly approaching the hills. About half a mile from +Thirlwall, they crossed a little river, not more than thirty +yards broad, and after that the twilight deepened fast. The +shades gathered on field and hill; everything grew brown, and +then dusky; and then Ellen was obliged to content herself with +what was very near, for further than that she could only see +dim outlines. She began again to think of their slow +travelling, and to wonder that Mr. Van Brunt could be content +with it. She wondered, too, what made him walk, when he might +just as well have sat in the cart; the truth was, he had +chosen that for the very purpose that he might have a good +look at the little queen in the arm-chair. Apparently, +however, he, too, now thought it might be as well to make a +little haste, for he thundered out some orders to his oxen, +accompanied with two or three strokes of his heavy lash, +which, though not cruel by any means, went to Ellen's heart. + +"Them lazy critters won't go fast anyhow," said he to Ellen; +"they will take their own time; it ain't no use to cut them." + +"Oh, no! Pray don't, if you please!" said Ellen, in a voice of +earnest entreaty. + +" 'Tain't fair, neither," continued Mr. Van Brunt, lashing his +great whip from side to side without touching anything. "I +have seen critters that would take any quantity of whipping to +make them go, but them 'ere ain't of that kind; they'll work +as long as they can stand, poor fellows!" + +There was a little silence, during which Ellen eyed her rough +charioteer, not knowing exactly what to make of him. + +"I guess this is the first time you ever rid in an ox-cart, +ain't it?" + +"Yes," said Ellen; "I never saw one before." + +"Han't you never seen an ox-cart! Well how do you like it?" + +"I like it very much indeed. Have we much further to go before +we get to aunt Fortune's house?" + +" 'Aunt Fortune's house?' a pretty good bit yet. You see that +mountain over there?" pointing with his whip to a hill +directly west of them, and about a mile distant. + +"Yes," said Ellen. + +"That's the Nose. Then you see that other?" pointing to one +that lay some two miles further south; "Miss Fortune's house +is just this side of that; it's all of two miles from here." + +And urged by this recollection, he again scolded and cheered +the patient oxen, who for the most part kept on their steady +way without any reminder. But perhaps it was for Ellen's sake +that he scarcely touched them with the whip. + +"That don't hurt them, not a bit," he remarked to Ellen "it +only lets them know that I'm here, and they must mind their +business. So you're Miss Fortune's niece, eh?" + +"Yes," said Ellen. + +"Well," said Mr. Van Brunt, with a desperate attempt at being +complimentary, "I shouldn't care if you was mine too." + +Ellen was somewhat astounded, and so utterly unable to echo +the wish, that she said nothing. She did not know it, but Mr. +Van Brunt had made, for him, most extraordinary efforts at +sociability. Having quite exhausted himself, he now mounted +into the cart and sat silent, only now and then uttering +energetic "Gees!" and "Haws!" which greatly excited Ellen's +wonderment. She discovered they were meant for the ears of the +oxen, but more than that she could not make out. + +They plodded along very slowly, and the evening fell fast. As +they left behind the hill which Mr. Van Brunt had called "the +Nose," they could see through an opening in the mountains, a +bit of the western horizon, and some brightness still +lingering there; but it was soon hid from view, and darkness +veiled the whole country. Ellen could amuse herself no longer +with looking about; she could see nothing very clearly but the +outline of Mr. Van Brunt's broad back, just before her. But +the stars had come out! and brilliant and clear they were +looking down upon her, with their thousand eyes. Ellen's heart +jumped when she saw them, with a mixed feeling of pleasure and +sadness. They carried her right back to the last evening, when +she was walking up the hill with Timmins; she remembered her +anger against Mrs. Dunscombe, and her kind friend's warning +not to indulge it, and all his teaching that day; and tears +came with the thought, how glad she should be to hear him +speak to her again. Still looking up at the beautiful quiet +stars, she thought of her dear far-off mother how long it +was already since she had seen her faster and faster the +tears dropped and then she thought of that glorious One who +had made the stars, and was above them all, and who could and +did see her mother and her, though ever so far apart, and +could hear and bless them both. The little face was no longer +upturned it was buried in her hands, and bowed to her lap, +and tears streamed as she prayed that God would bless her dear +mother and take care of her. Not once nor twice the fulness +of Ellen's heart could not be poured out in one asking. +Greatly comforted at last, at having as it were laid over the +care of her mother upon One who was able, she thought of +herself, and her late resolution to serve him. She was in the +same mind still. She could not call herself a Christian yet, +but she was resolved to be one; and she earnestly asked the +Saviour she sought, to make her and keep her his child. And +then Ellen felt happy. + +Quiet, and weariness, and even drowsiness, succeeded. It was +well the night was still, for it had grown quite cool, and a +breeze would have gone through and through Ellen's nankeen +coat. As it was, she began to be chilly, when Mr. Van Brunt, +who, since he got into the cart, had made no remarks except to +his oxen, turned round a little and spoke to her again. + +"It's only a little bit of way we've got to go now," said he; +"we're turning the corner." + +The words seemed to shoot through Ellen's heart. She was wide +awake instantly, and quite warm; and leaning forward in her +little chair, she strove to pierce the darkness on either hand +of her, to see whereabouts the house stood, and how things +looked. She could discern nothing but misty shadows, and +outlines of she could not tell what; the starlight was too dim +to reveal any thing to a stranger. + +"There's the house," said Mr. Van Brunt, after a few minutes +more, "do you see it yonder?" + +Ellen strained her eyes, but could make out nothing not even +a glimpse of white. She sat back in her chair, her heart +beating violently. Presently Mr. Van Brunt jumped down and +opened a gate at the side of the road; and with a great deal +of "gee"-ing the oxen turned to the right, and drew the cart a +little way up hill then stopped on what seemed level ground. + +"Here we are!" cried Mr. Van Brunt, as he threw his whip on +the ground "and late enough! You must be tired of that +little arm-cheer by this time. Come to the side of the cart, +and I'll lift you down." + +Poor Ellen! There was no help for it. She came to the side of +the cart, and, taking her in his arms, her rough charioteer +set her very gently and carefully on the ground. + +"There!" said he, "now you can run right in; do you see that +little gate?" + +"No," said Ellen, "I can't see anything." + +"Well, come here," said he, "and I'll show you. Here you're +running agin the fence this way!" + +And he opened a little wicket, which Ellen managed to stumble +through. + +"Now," said he, "go straight up to that door yonder, and open +it, and you'll see where to go. Don't knock, but just pull the +latch and go in." + +And he went off to his oxen. Ellen at first saw no door, and +did not even know where to look for it; by degrees, as her +head became clearer, the large dark shadow of the house stood +before her, and a little glimmering line of a path seemed to +lead onward from where she stood. With unsteady steps, Ellen +pursued it till her foot struck against the stone before the +door. Her trembling fingers found the latch lifted it and +she entered. All was dark there; but at the right a window +showed light glimmering within. Ellen made towards it, and, +groping, came to another door-latch. This was big and clumsy; +however, she managed it, and, pushing open the heavy door, +went in. + +It was a good-sized, cheerful-looking kitchen. A fine fire was +burning in the enormous fire-place; the white walls and +ceiling were yellow in the light of the flame. No candles were +needed, and none were there. The supper-table was set, and, +with its snow-white tablecloth and shining furniture, looked +very comfortable indeed. But the only person there was an old +woman, sitting by the side of the fire, with her back towards +Ellen. She seemed to be knitting, but did not move nor look +round. Ellen had come a step or two into the room, and there +she stood, unable to speak or to go any further. "Can that be +Aunt Fortune?" she thought; "she can't be as old as that!" + +In another minute a door opened at her right, just behind the +old woman's back, and a second figure appeared at the top of a +flight of stairs which led down from the kitchen. She came in, +shutting the door behind her with her foot; and indeed both +hands were full, one holding a lamp and a knife, and the other +a plate of butter. The sight of Ellen stopped her short. + +"What is this? and what do you leave the door open for, +child?" she said. + +She advanced towards it, plate and lamp in hand, and setting +her back against the door, shut it vigorously. + +"Who are you? and what's wanting?" + +"I am Ellen Montgomery, Maam," said Ellen timidly. + +"_What?_" said the lady, with some emphasis. + +"Didn't you expect me, Maam?" said Ellen. "Papa said he would +write." + +"Why, is this Ellen Montgomery?" said Miss Fortune, apparently +forced to the conclusion that it must be. + +"Yes, Maam," said Ellen. + +Miss Fortune went to the table, and put the butter and the +lamp in their places. + +"Did you say your father wrote to tell me of your coming?" + +"He said he would, Maam," said Ellen. + +"He didn't! Never sent me a line. Just like him! I never yet +knew Morgan Montgomery do a thing when he promised he would." + +Ellen's face flushed, and her heart swelled. She stood +motionless. + +"How did you get down here to-night?" + +"I came in Mr. Van Brunt's ox-cart," said Ellen. + +"Mr. Van Brunt's ox-cart! Then he's got home, has he?" And +hearing this instant a noise outside, Miss Fortune swept to +the door, saying, as she opened it, "Sit down, child, and take +off your things." + +The first command, at least, Ellen obeyed gladly; she did not +feel enough at home to comply with the second. She only took +off her bonnet. + +"Well, Mr. Van Brunt," said Miss Fortune, at the door, "have +you brought me a barrel of flour?" + +"No, Miss Fortune," said the voice of Ellen's charioteer, +"I've brought you something better than that." + +"Where did you find her?" said Miss Fortune, something +shortly. + +"Up at Forbes's." + +"What have you got there?" + +"A trunk. Where is it to go?" + +"A trunk! It must go up stairs; but how it is ever to get +there, I am sure I don't know." + +"I'll find a way to get it there, I'll engage, if you'll be so +good as to open the door for me, Maam." + +"Indeed you won't! That'll never do! With your shoes!" said +Miss Fortune, in a tone of indignant housewifery. + +"Well, without my shoes, then," said Mr. Van Brunt, with a +half-giggle, as Ellen heard the shoes kicked off. "Now, Maam, +out of my way! give me a road." + +Miss Fortune seized the lamp, and, opening another door, +ushered Mr. Van Brunt and the trunk out of the kitchen, and up + Ellen saw not whither. In a minute or two they returned, and +he of the ox-cart went out. + +"Supper's just ready, Mr. Van Brunt," said the mistress of the +house. + +"Can't stay, Maam it's so late; must hurry home." And he +closed the door behind him. + +"What made you so late?" asked Miss Fortune of Ellen. + +"I don't know, Maam I believe Mr. Van Brunt said the +blacksmith had kept him." + +Miss Fortune bustled about a few minutes in silence, setting +some things on the table, and filling the tea-pot. + +"Come," she said to Ellen, "take off your coat and come to the +table. You must be hungry by this time. It's a good while +since you had your dinner, ain't it? Come, mother." + +The old lady rose, and Miss Fortune, taking her chair, set it +by the side of the table, next the fire. Ellen was opposite to +her, and now, for the first time, the old lady seemed to know +that she was in the room. She looked at her very attentively, +but with an expressionless gaze which Ellen did not like to +meet, though otherwise her face was calm and pleasant. + +"Who is that?" inquired the old lady presently of Miss +Fortune, in a half whisper. + +"That's Morgan's daughter," was the answer. + +"Morgan's daughter! Has Morgan a daughter?" + +"Why, yes, mother; don't you remember I told you a month ago +he was going to send her here?" + +The old lady turned again, with a half shake of her head, +towards Ellen. "Morgan's daughter," she repeated to herself, +softly, "she's a pretty little girl very pretty. Will you +come round here and give me a kiss, dear?" + +Ellen submitted. The old lady folded her in her arms, and +kissed her affectionately. "That's your grandmother, Ellen," +said Miss Fortune, as Ellen went back to her seat. + +Ellen had no words to answer. Her aunt saw her weary down- +look, and soon after supper proposed to take her upstairs. +Ellen gladly followed her. Miss Fortune showed her to her +room, and first asking if she wanted any thing, left her to +herself. It was a relief. Ellen's heart had been brimful, and +ready to run over for some time, but the tears could not come +then. They did not now, till she had undressed and laid her +weary little body on the bed: then they broke forth in an +agony. "She did not kiss me! she didn't say she was glad to +see me!" thought poor Ellen. But weariness this time was too +much for sorrow and disappointment. It was but a few minutes, +and Ellen's brow was calm again, and her eyelids still, and, +with the tears wet upon her cheeks, she was fast asleep. + + +CHAPTER X. + +Mud and what came of it. + + +The morning sun was shining full and strong in Ellen's eyes +when she awoke. Bewildered at the strangeness of everything +around her, she raised herself on her elbow, and took a long +look at her new home. It could not help but seem cheerful. The +bright beams of sunlight, streaming in through the windows, +lighted on the wall and the old wainscoting; and paintless and +rough as they were, nature's own gilding more than made amends +for their want of comeliness. Still Ellen was not much pleased +with the result of her survey. The room was good-sized, and +perfectly neat and clean; it had two large windows opening to +the east, through which, morning by morning, the sun looked in + that was another blessing. But the floor was without the +sign of a carpet, and the bare boards looked to Ellen very +comfortless. The hard-finished walls were not very smooth, nor +particularly white. The doors and wood-work, though very neat, +and even carved with some attempt at ornament, had never known +the touch of paint, and had grown in the course of years to be +a light-brown colour. The room was very bare of furniture, +too. A dressing-table, pier-table, or what-not, stood between +the windows, but it was only a half-circular top of pine-board +set upon three very long bare-looking legs altogether of a +most awkward and unhappy appearance, Ellen thought, and quite +too high for her to use with any comfort. No glass hung over +it, nor anywhere else. On the north side of the room was a +fireplace; against the opposite wall stood Ellen's trunk and +two chairs; that was all, except the cot-bed she was lying on, +and which had its place opposite the windows. The coverlid of +that came in for a share of her displeasure, being of home- +made white and blue worsted, mixed with cotton, exceeding +thick and heavy. + +"I wonder what sort of a blanket is under it," said Ellen, "if +I can ever get it off to see! Pretty good; but the sheets are +cotton, and so is the pillow-case!" + +She was still leaning on her elbow, looking around her with a +rather discontented face, when some door being opened down- +stairs, a great noise of hissing and sputtering came to her +ears, and presently after there stole to her nostrils a +steaming odour of something very savoury from the kitchen. It +said as plainly as any dressing-bell that she had better get +up. So up she jumped, and set about the business of dressing +with great alacrity. Where was the distress of last night? +Gone with the darkness. She had slept well; the bracing +atmosphere had restored strength and spirits; and the bright +morning light made it impossible to be dull or downhearted, in +spite of the new cause she thought she had found. She went on +quick with the business of the toilet. But when it came to the +washing, she suddenly discovered that there were no +conveniences for it in her room no sign of pitcher or basin, +or stand to hold them. Ellen was slightly dismayed; but +presently recollected her arrival had not been looked for so +soon, and probably the preparations for it had not been +completed. So she finished dressing, and then set out to find +her way to the kitchen. On opening the door, there was a +little landing-place from which the stairs descended just in +front of her and at the left hand another door, which she +supposed must lead to her aunt's room. At the foot of the +stairs Ellen found herself in a large square room or hall, for +one of its doors on the east opened to the outer air, and was +in fact the front door of the house. Another Ellen tried on +the south side; it would not open. A third, under the stairs, +admitted her to the kitchen. + +The noise of hissing and sputtering now became quite violent, +and the smell of the cooking, to Ellen's fancy, rather too +strong to be pleasant. Before a good fire stood Miss Fortune, +holding the end of a very long iron handle, by which she was +kept in communication with a flat vessel sitting on the fire, +in which Ellen soon discovered all this noisy and odorous +cooking was going on. A tall tin coffee-pot stood on some +coals in the corner of the fireplace, and another little iron +vessel in front also claimed a share of Miss Fortune's +attention, for she every now and then leaned forward to give a +stir to whatever was in it, making each time quite a spasmodic +effort to do so, without quitting her hold of the end of the +long handle. Ellen drew near, and looked on with great +curiosity, and not a little appetite; but Miss Fortune was far +too busy to give her more than a passing glance. At length the +hissing pan was brought to the hearth for some new arrangement +of its contents, and Ellen seized the moment of peace and +quiet to say, "Good morning, Aunt Fortune." + +Miss Fortune was crouching by the pan, turning her slices of +pork. "How do you do this morning?" she answered, without +looking up. + +Ellen replied she felt a great deal better. + +"Slept warm, did you?" said Miss Fortune, as she set the pan +back on the fire. And Ellen could hardly answer. "Quite warm, +Maam," when the hissing and sputtering began again, as loud +as ever. + +"I must wait," thought Ellen, "till this is over, before I say +what I want to. I can't scream out to ask for a basin and +towel." + +In a few minutes the pan was removed from the fire, and Miss +Fortune went on to take out the brown slices of nicely-fried +pork and arrange them in a deep dish, leaving a small quantity +of clear fat in the pan. Ellen, who was greatly interested, +and observing every step most attentively, settled in her own +mind that certainly this would be thrown away, being fit for +nothing but the pigs. But Miss Fortune didn't think so, for +she darted into some pantry close by, and returning with a cup +of cream in her hand, emptied it all into the pork fat. Then +she ran into the pantry again for a little round tin box, with +a cover full of holes, and shaking this gently over the pan, a +fine white shower of flour fell upon the cream. The pan was +then replaced on the fire and stirred; and, to Ellen's +astonishment, the whole changed, as if by magic, to a thick, +stiff, white froth. It was not till Miss Fortune was carefully +pouring this over the fried slices in the dish, that Ellen +suddenly recollected that breakfast was ready, and she was +not. + +"Aunt Fortune," she said, timidly, "I haven't washed yet +there's no basin in my room." + +Miss Fortune made no answer, nor gave any sign of hearing; she +went on dishing up breakfast. Ellen waited a few minutes. + +"Will you please, Maam, to show me where I can wash myself." + +"Yes," said Miss Fortune, suddenly standing erect, "you'll +have to go down to the spout." + +"The spout, Maam," said Ellen, "what's that?" + +"You'll know it when you see it, I guess," answered her aunt, +again stooping over her preparations. But in another moment +she arose and said, "Just open that door there behind you, and +go down the stairs and out at the door, and you'll see where +it is, and what it is too." + +Ellen still lingered. "Would you be so good as to give me a +towel, Maam," she said, timidly. + +Miss Fortune dashed past her and out of another door, whence +she presently returned with a clean towel, which she threw +over Ellen's arm, and then went back to her work. + +Opening the door by which she had first seen her aunt enter +the night before, Ellen went down a steep flight of steps, and +found herself in a lower kitchen, intended for common +purposes. It seemed not to be used at all at least there was +no fire there, and a cellar-like feeling and smell instead. +That was no wonder, for beyond the fireplace on the left hand +was the opening to the cellar, which, running under the other +part of the house, was on a level with this kitchen. It had no +furniture but a table and two chairs. The thick, heavy door +stood open. Passing out, Ellen looked around for water in +what shape or form it was to present itself she had no very +clear idea. She soon spied, a few yards distant, a little +stream of water pouring from the end of a pipe or trough +raised about a foot and a half from the ground; and a well- +worn path leading to it, left no doubt of its being "the +spout." But when she had reached it, Ellen was in no small +puzzle as to how she should manage. The water was clear and +bright, and poured very fast into a shallow wooden trough +underneath, whence it ran off into the meadow and disappeared. + +"But what shall I do without a basin?" thought Ellen; "I can't +catch any water in my hands, it runs too fast. If I only could +get my face under there that would be fine!" + +Very carefully and cautiously she tried it, but the continual +spattering of the water had made the board on which she stood +so slippery, that before her face could reach the stream, she +came very near tumbling headlong, and so taking more of a cold +bath than she wished for. So she contented herself with the +drops her hands could bring to her face a scanty supply; but +those drops were deliciously cold and fresh. And afterwards +she pleased herself with holding her hands in the running +water till they were red with the cold. On the whole, Ellen +enjoyed her washing very much. The morning air came playing +about her; its cool breath was on her cheek, with health in +its touch. The early sun was shining on tree, and meadow, and +hill; the long shadows stretched over the grass, and the very +brown outhouses looked bright. She thought it was the +loveliest place she had ever seen. And that sparkling, +trickling water was certainly the purest and sweetest she had +ever tasted. Where could it come from? It poured from a small +trough, made of the split trunk of a tree, with a little +groove or channel, two inches wide, hollowed out in it. But at +the end of one of these troughs, another lapped on, and +another at the end of that; and how many there were, Ellen +could not see, nor where the beginning of them was. Ellen +stood gazing and wondering, drinking in the fresh air, hope +and spirits rising every minute, when she suddenly recollected +breakfast! She hurried in. As she expected, her aunt was at +the table; but to her surprise, and not at all to her +gratification, there was Mr. Van Brunt at the other end of it, +eating away, very much at home indeed. In silent dismay, Ellen +drew her chair to the side of the table. + +"Did you find the spout?" asked Miss Fortune. + +"Yes, Maam." + +"Well, how do you like it?" + +"Oh, I like it very much indeed," said Ellen. "I think it is +beautiful." + +Miss Fortune's face rather softened at this, and she gave +Ellen an abundant supply of all that was on the table. Her +journey, the bracing air, and her cool morning wash, +altogether, had made Ellen very sharp, and she did justice to +the breakfast. She thought never was coffee so good as this +country coffee; nor anything so excellent as the brown bread +and butter, both as sweet as bread and butter could be; +neither was any cookery so entirely satisfactory as Miss +Fortune's fried pork and potatoes. Yet her teaspoon was not +silver; her knife could not boast of being either sharp or +bright; and her fork was certainly made for anything else in +the world but comfort and convenience, being of only two +prongs, and those so far apart that Ellen had no small +difficulty to carry the potato safely from her plate to her +mouth. It mattered nothing; she was now looking on the bright +side of things, and all this only made her breakfast taste the +sweeter. + +Ellen rose from the table when she had finished, and stood a +few minutes thoughtfully by the fire. + +"Aunt Fortune," she said at length, timidly, "if you've no +objection, I should like to go and take a good look all +about." + +"Oh, yes," said Miss Fortune, "go where you like; I'll give +you a week to do what you please with yourself." + +"Thank you, Maam," said Ellen, as she ran off for her bonnet; +"a week's a long time. I suppose," thought she, "I shall go to +school at the end of that." + +Returning quickly with her white bonnet, Ellen opened the +heavy kitchen door by which she had entered last night, and +went out. She found herself in a kind of long shed. It had +very rough walls and floor, and overhead showed the brown +beams and rafters; two little windows and a door were on the +side. All manner of rubbish lay there, especially at the +further end. There was scattered about and piled up various +boxes, boards, farming and garden tools, old pieces of rope +and sheepskin, old iron, a cheese-press, and what not. Ellen +did not stay long to look, but went out to find something +pleasanter. A few yards from the shed door was the little gate +through which she had stumbled in the dark, and outside of +that Ellen stood still a while. It was a fair, pleasant day, +and the country scene she looked upon was very pretty. Ellen +thought so. Before her, at a little distance, rose the great +gable end of the barn, and a long row of outhouses stretched +away from it towards the left. The ground was strewn thick +with chips; and the reason was not hard to find, for a little +way off, under an old stunted apple-tree, lay a huge log, well +chipped on the upper surface, with the axe resting against it; +and close by were some sticks of wood both chopped and +unchopped. To the right, the ground descended gently to a +beautiful plane meadow, skirted on the hither side by a row of +fine apple-trees. The smooth green flat tempted Ellen to a +run, but first she looked to the left. There was the garden, +she guessed, for there was a paling fence which enclosed a +pretty large piece of ground; and between the garden and the +house a green slope ran down to the spout. That reminded her +that she intended making a journey of discovery up the course +of the long trough. No time could be better than now; and she +ran down the slope. + +The trough was supported at some height from the ground by +little heaps of stones, placed here and there along its whole +course. Not far from the spout it crossed a fence. Ellen must +cross it, too, to gain her object, and how that could be done, +was a great question; she resolved to try, however. But first, +she played awhile with the water, which had great charms for +her. She dammed up the little channel with her fingers, +forcing the water to flow over the side of the trough; there +was something very pleasant in stopping the supply of the +spout, and seeing the water trickling over where it had no +business to go; and she did not heed that some of the drops +took her frock in their way. She stooped her lips to the +trough and drank of its sweet current only for fun's sake, +for she was not thirsty. Finally, she set out to follow the +stream up to its head. But poor Ellen had not gone more than +half way towards the fence, when she all at once plunged into +the mire. The green grass growing there had looked fair +enough, but there was running water and black mud under the +green grass, she found to her sorrow. Her shoes, her +stockings, were full. What was to be done now! The journey of +discovery must be given up. She forgot to think about where +the water came from, in the more pressing question, "What will +Aunt Fortune say?" and the quick wish came that she had her +mother to go to. However, she got out of the slough, and +wiping her shoes as well as she could on the grass, she +hastened back to the house. + +The kitchen was all put in order, the hearth swept, the irons +at the fire, and Miss Fortune just pinning her ironing-blanket +on the table. + +"Well what's the matter?" she said, when she saw Ellen's +face; but as her glance reached the floor, her brow darkened. +"Mercy on me!" she exclaimed, with slow emphasis; "what on +earth have you been about? where have you been?" + +Ellen explained. + +"Well, you _have_ made a figure of yourself! Sit down!" said her +aunt, shortly, as she thrust a chair down on the hearth before +the fire "I should have thought you'd have had wit enough at +your age, to keep out of the ditch." + +"I didn't see any ditch," said Ellen. + +"No, I suppose not," said Miss Fortune, who was energetically +twitching off Ellen's shoes and stockings with her fore finger +and thumb "I suppose not; you were staring up at the moon or +stars, I suppose." + +"It all looked green and smooth," said poor Ellen "one part +just like another and the first thing I knew, I was up to my +ankles." + +"What were you there at all for?" said Miss Fortune, shortly +enough. + +"I couldn't see where the water came from, and I wanted to +find out." + +"Well you've found out enough for one day, I hope. Just look +at those stockings! Han't you got never a pair of coloured +stockings, that you must go poking into the mud with white +ones?" + +"No, Maam." + +"Do you mean to say you never wore any but white ones at +home?" + +"Yes, Maam I never had any others." + +Miss Fortune's thoughts seemed too much for speech, from the +way in which she jumped up and went off without saying +anything more. She presently came back with an old pair of +gray socks, which she bade Ellen put on as soon as her feet +were dry. + +"How many of those white stockings have you?" she said. + +"Mamma bought me half a dozen pair of new ones just before I +came away, and I had as many as that of old ones besides." + +"Well, now go up to your trunk and bring 'em all down to me +every pair of white stockings you have got. There's a pair of +old slippers you can put on till your shoes are dry," she +said, flinging them to her "They aren't much too big for +you." + +"They're not much too big for the _socks_ they're a great deal +too big for me," thought Ellen. But she said nothing. She +gathered all her stockings together and brought them down +stairs, as her aunt had bidden her. + +"Now you may run out to the barn, to Mr. Van Brunt you'll +find him there and tell him I want him to bring me some +white maple bark when he comes home to dinner white maple +bark, do you hear?" + +Away went Ellen, but in a few minutes came back. + +"I can't get in," she said. + +"What's the matter?" + +"Those great doors are shut, and I can't open them. I knocked, +but nobody came." + +"Knock at a barn door!" said Miss Fortune. "You must go in at +the little cow-house door, at the left, and go round. He's in +the lower barn-floor." + +The barn stood lower than the level of the chip-yard, from +which a little bridge led to the great doorway of the second +floor. Passing down the range of outhouses, Ellen came to the +little door her aunt had spoken of. "But what in the world +should I do if there should be cows inside there?" said she to +herself. She peeped in the cow-house was perfectly empty; +and cautiously, and with many a fearful glance to the right +and left, lest some terrible horned animal should present +itself, Ellen made her way across the cow-house, and through +the barn-yard, littered thick with straw wet and dry, to the +lower barn-floor. The door of this stood wide open. Ellen +looked with wonder and pleasure when she got in. It was an +immense room the sides showed nothing but hay up to the +ceiling, except here and there an enormous upright post; the +floor was perfectly clean, only a few locks of hay and grains +of wheat scattered upon it; and a pleasant sweet smell was +there, Ellen could not tell of what. But no Mr. Van Brunt. She +looked about for him, she dragged her disagreeable slippers +back and forth over the floor, in vain. + +"Hilloa! what's wanting?" at length cried a rough voice she +remembered very well. But where was the speaker? On every +side, to every corner, her eyes turned without finding him. +She looked up at last. There was the round face of Mr. Van +Brunt peering down at her through a large opening, or trap- +door, in the upper floor. + +"Well!" said he, "have you come out here to help me thrash +wheat?" + +Ellen told him what she had come for. + +"White maple bark well," said he, in his slow way, "I'll +bring it. I wonder what's in the wind now!" + +So Ellen wondered, as she slowly went back to the house; and +yet more, when her aunt set her to tacking her stockings +together by two and two. + +"What are you going to do with them, Aunt Fortune?" she at +last ventured to say. + +"You'll see when the time comes." + +"Mayn't I keep out one pair?" said Ellen, who had a vague +notion that by some mysterious means her stockings were to be +prevented from ever looking white any more. + +"No just do as I tell you." + +Mr. Van Brunt came at dinner-time with the white maple bark. +It was thrown forthwith into a brass kettle of water, which +Miss Fortune had already hung over the fire. Ellen felt sure +this had something to do with her stockings, but she could ask +no questions; and as soon as dinner was over she went up to +her room. It didn't look pleasant now. The brown wood-work and +rough dingy walls had lost their gilding. The sunshine was out +of it; and what was more, the sunshine was out of Ellen's +heart too. She went to the window and opened it, but there was +nothing to keep it open; it slid down again as soon as she let +it go. Baffled and sad, she stood leaning her elbows on the +window-sill, looking out on the grass-plat that lay before the +door, and the little gate that opened on the lane, and the +smooth meadow and rich broken country beyond. It was a very +fair and pleasant scene in the soft sunlight of the last of +October; but the charm of it was gone for Ellen; it was +dreary. She looked without caring to look, or knowing what she +was looking at; she felt the tears rising to her eyes, and, +sick of the window, turned away. Her eye fell on her trunk; +her next thought was of her desk inside of it; and suddenly +her heart sprang "I will write to Mamma!" No sooner said +than done. The trunk was quickly open, and hasty hands pulled +out one thing after another till the desk was reached. + +"But what shall I do?" thought she "there isn't a sign of a +table. Oh, what a place! I'll shut my trunk and put it on +that. But here are all these things to put back first." + +They were eagerly stowed away; and then kneeling by the side +of the trunk, with loving hands Ellen opened her desk. A sheet +of paper was drawn from her store, and properly placed before +her; the pen dipped in the ink, and at first with a hurried, +then with a trembling hand, she wrote, "My dear Mamma." But +Ellen's heart had been swelling and swelling with every letter +of those three words, and scarcely was the last "a" finished, +when the pen was dashed down, and flinging away from the desk, +she threw herself on the floor in a passion of grief. It +seemed as if she had her mother again in her arms, and was +clinging with a death-grasp, not to be parted from her. And +then the feeling that she was parted! As much bitter sorrow as +a little heart can know was in poor Ellen's now. In her +childish despair she wished she could die, and almost thought +she should. After a time, however, though not a short time, +she rose from the floor and went to her writing again her +heart a little eased by weeping, yet the tears kept coming all +the time, and she could not quite keep her paper from being +blotted. The first sheet was spoiled before she was aware; she +took another. + + +"MY DEAREST MAMMA, + +"It makes me so glad and so sorry to write to you, that I +don't know what to do. I want to see you so much, Mamma, that +it seems to me sometimes as if my heart would break. Oh, +Mamma, if I could just kiss you once more, I would give +anything in the whole world. I can't be happy as long as you +are away, and I am afraid I can't be good either; but I will +try oh, I will try, Mamma. I have so much to say to you, +that I don't know where to begin. I am sure my paper will +never hold it. You will want to know about my journey. The +first day was on the steamboat, you know. I should have had a +dreadful time that day, Mamma, but for something I'll tell you +about. I was sitting up on the upper deck, thinking about you, +and feeling very badly indeed, when a gentleman came and spoke +to me, and asked me what was the matter. Mamma, I can't tell +you how kind he was to me. He kept me with him the whole day. +He took me all over the boat, and showed me all about a great +many things, and he talked to me a great deal. Oh, Mamma, how +he talked to me! He read in the Bible to me, and explained it, +and he tried to make me a Christian. And oh! Mamma, when he +was talking to me, how I wanted to do as he said! and I +resolved I would. I did, Mamma, and I have not forgotten it. I +will try indeed, but I am afraid it will be very hard, without +you or him or anybody else to help me. You couldn't have been +kinder yourself, Mamma; he kissed me at night when I bid him +good-bye, and I was very sorry indeed. I wish I could see him +again. Mamma, I will always love that gentleman, if I never +see him again in the world. I wish there was somebody here +that I could love, but there is not. You will want to know +what sort of a person my aunt Fortune is. I think she is very +good-looking, or she would be if her nose was not quite so +sharp; but, Mamma, I can't tell you what sort of a feeling I +have about her; it seems to me as if she was sharp all over. I +am sure her eyes are as sharp as two needles. And she don't +walk like other people at least, sometimes. She makes queer +little jerks and starts and jumps, and flies about like I +don't know what. I am afraid it is not right for me to write +so about her; but may I not tell you, Mamma? There's nobody +else for me to talk to. I can't like Aunt Fortune much yet, +and I am sure she don't like me; but I will try to make her. I +have not forgotten what you said to me about that! Oh! dear +Mamma, I will try to mind everything you ever said to me in +your life. I am afraid you won't like what I have written +about Aunt Fortune; but indeed I have done nothing to +displease her, and I will try not to. If you were only here, +Mamma, I should say it was the loveliest place I ever saw in +my life. Perhaps, after all, I shall feel better, and be quite +happy by and by; but oh! Mamma, how glad I shall be when I get +a letter from you! I shall begin to look for it soon, and I +think I shall go out of my wits with joy when it comes. I had +the funniest ride down here from Thirlwall that you can think; +how do you guess I came? In a cart drawn by oxen! They went so +slow, we were an age getting here; but I liked it very much. +There was a good-natured man driving the oxen, and he was kind +to me; but, Mamma, what do you think? he eats at the table! +I know what you would tell me; you would say I must not mind +trifles. Well, I will try not, Mamma. Oh! darling mother, I +can't think much of anything but you. I think of you the whole +time. Who makes tea for you now? Are you better? Are you going +to leave New York soon? It seems dreadfully long since I saw +you. I am tired, dear Mamma, and cold; and it is getting dark. +I must stop. I have a good big room to myself; that is a good +thing. I should not like to sleep with Aunt Fortune. Good +night, dear Mamma. I wish I could sleep with you once more. +Oh! when will that be again, Mamma? Good night. Good night +Your affectionate "ELLEN." + + +The letter finished, was carefully folded, enclosed, and +directed; and then, with an odd mixture of pleasure and +sadness, Ellen lit one of her little wax matches, as she +called them, and sealed it very nicely. She looked at it +fondly a minute when all was done, thinking of the dear +fingers that would hold and open it; her next movement was to +sink her face in her hands, and pray most earnestly for a +blessing upon her mother, and help for herself poor Ellen +felt she needed it. She was afraid of lingering lest tea +should be ready, so, locking up her letter, she went down +stairs. + +The tea was ready. Miss Fortune and Mr. Van Brunt were at the +table, and so was the old lady, whom Ellen had not seen before +that day. She quietly drew up her chair to its place. + +"Well," said Miss Fortune, "I hope you feel better for your +long stay up stairs." + +"I do, Maam," said Ellen "a great deal better." + +"What have you been about?" + +"I have been writing, Maam." + +"Writing what?" + +"I have been writing to Mamma." + +Perhaps Miss Fortune heard the trembling of Ellen's voice, or +her sharp glance saw the lip quiver and eyelid droop. +Something softened her. She spoke in a different tone; asked +Ellen if her tea was good; took care she had plenty of the +bread and butter, and excellent cheese, which was on the +table; and, lastly cut her a large piece of the pumpkin-pie. +Mr. Van Brunt, too, looked once or twice at Ellen's face, as +if he thought all was not right there. He was not so sharp as +Miss Fortune, but the swollen eyes and tear-stains were not +quite lost upon him. + +After tea, when Mr. Van Brunt was gone, and the tea things +cleared away, Ellen had the pleasure of finding out the +mystery of the brass kettle and the white maple bark. The +kettle now stood in the chimney corner. Miss Fortune, seating +herself before it, threw in all Ellen's stockings except one +pair, which she flung over to her, saying, "There I don't +care if you keep that one." Then tucking up her sleeves to the +elbows, she fished up pair after pair out of the kettle, and +wringing them out, hung them on chairs to dry. But, as Ellen +had opined, they were no longer white, but of a fine slate +colour. She looked on in silence, too much vexed to ask +questions. + +"Well, how do you like that?" said Miss Fortune, at length, +when she had got two or three chairs round the fire, pretty +well hung with a display of slate-coloured cotton legs. + +"I don't like it at all," said Ellen. + +"Well, _I_ do. How many pair of white stockings would you like +to drive into the mud, and let me wash out every week?" + +"_You_ wash!" said Ellen, in surprise "I didn't think of _your_ +doing it." + +"Who did you think _was_ going to do it? There's nothing in this +house but goes through my hand, I can tell you, and so must +you. I suppose you've lived all your life among people that +thought a great deal of wetting their little finger! but I'm +not one of 'em, I guess you'll find." + +Ellen was convinced of that already. + +"Well, what are you thinking of?" said Miss Fortune, +presently. + +"I'm thinking of my nice white darning cotton," said Ellen. "I +might just as well not have had it." + +"Is it wound, or in the skein?" + +"In the skein." + +"Then just go right up and get it. I'll warrant I'll fix it so +that you'll have a use for it." + +Ellen obeyed, but musing rather uncomfortably what else there +was of hers that Miss Fortune could lay hands on. She seemed +in imagination to see all her white things turning brown. She +resolved she would keep her trunk well locked up; but what if +her keys should be called for? + +She was dismissed to her room soon after the dyeing business +was completed. It was rather a disagreeable surprise to find +her bed still unmade; and she did not at all like the notion +that the making of it in future must depend entirely upon +herself Ellen had no fancy for such handiwork. She went to +sleep in somewhat the same dissatisfied mood with which the +day had been begun displeasure at her coarse heavy coverlid +and cotton sheets again taking its place among weightier +matters! and dreamed of tying them together into a rope by +which to let herself down out of the window; but when she had +got so far, Ellen's sleep became sound, and the end of the +dream was never known. + + +CHAPTER XI. + +Running away with the brook. + + +Clouds and rain and cold winds kept Ellen within doors for +several days. This did not better the state of matters between +herself and her aunt. Shut up with her in the kitchen from +morning till night, with the only variety of the old lady's +company part of the time, Ellen thought neither of them +improved upon acquaintance. Perhaps they thought the same of +her she was certainly not in her best mood. With nothing to +do, the time hanging very heavy on her hands, disappointed, +unhappy, frequently irritated, Ellen became at length very +ready to take offence, and nowise disposed to pass it over, or +smooth it away. She seldom showed this in words, it is true, +but it rankled in her mind. Listless and brooding, she sat, +day after day, comparing the present with the past, wishing +vain wishes, indulging bootless regrets, and looking upon her +aunt and grandmother with an eye of more settled aversion. The +only other person she saw was Mr. Van Brunt, who came in +regularly to meals; but he never said anything, unless in +answer to Miss Fortune's questions, and remarks about the farm +concerns. These did not interest her, and she was greatly +wearied with the sameness of her life. She longed to go out +again; but Thursday, and Friday, and Saturday, and Sunday +passed, and the weather still kept her close prisoner. Monday +brought a change, but though a cool drying wind blew all day, +the ground was too wet to venture out. + +On the evening of that day, as Miss Fortune was setting the +table for tea, and Ellen sitting before the fire, feeling +weary of everything, the kitchen door opened, and a girl +somewhat larger and older than herself came in. She had a +pitcher in her hand, and marching straight up to the tea- +table, she said + +"Will you let granny have a little milk to-night, Miss +Fortune? I can't find the cow. I'll bring it back to-morrow." + +"You han't lost her, Nancy?" + +"Have, though," said the other; "she's been away these two +days." + +"Why didn't you go somewhere nearer for milk?" + +"Oh! I don't know I guess your'n is the sweetest," said the +girl, with a look Ellen did not understand. + +Miss Fortune took the pitcher and went into the pantry. While +she was gone, the two children improved the time in looking +very hard at each other. Ellen's gaze was modest enough, +though it showed a great deal of interest in the new object; +but the broad, searching stare of the other seemed intended to +take in all there was of Ellen from her head to her feet, and +keep it, and find out what sort of a creature she was at once. +Ellen almost shrank from the bold black eyes, but they never +wavered, till Miss Fortune's voice broke the spell. + +"How's your grandmother, Nancy?" + +"She's tolerable, Maam, thank you." + +"Now, if you don't bring it back to-morrow, you won't get any +more in a hurry," said Miss Fortune, as she handed the pitcher +back to the girl. + +"I'll mind it," said the latter, with a little nod of her +head, which seemed to say there was no danger of her +forgetting. + +"Who is that, aunt Fortune?" said Ellen, when she was gone. + +"She is a girl that lives up on the mountain yonder." + +"But what's her name?" + +"I had just as lief you wouldn't know her name. She ain't a +good girl. Don't you never have anything to do with her." + +Ellen was in no mind to give credit to all her aunt's +opinions, and she set this down as in part at least coming +from ill-humour. + +The next morning was calm and fine, and Ellen spent nearly the +whole of it out of doors. She did not venture near the ditch, +but in every other direction she explored the ground, and +examined what stood or grew upon it as thoroughly as she +dared. Towards noon she was standing by the little gate at the +back of the house, unwilling to go in, but not knowing what +more to do, when Mr. Van Brunt came from the lane with a load +of wood. Ellen watched the oxen toiling up the ascent, and +thought it looked like very hard work; she was sorry for them. + +"Isn't that a very heavy load?" she asked of their driver, as +he was throwing it down under the apple-tree. + +"Heavy? Not a bit of it. It ain't nothing at all to 'em. +They'd take twice as much any day with pleasure." + +"I shouldn't think so," said Ellen; "they don't look as if +there was much pleasure about it. What makes them lean over so +against each other when they are coming up hill?" + +"Oh, that's just a way they've got. They're so fond of each +other, I suppose. Perhaps they've something particular to say, +and want to put their heads together for the purpose." + +"No," said Ellen, half laughing, "it can't be that; they +wouldn't take the very hardest time for that; they would wait +till they got to the top of the hill: but there they stand +just as if they were asleep, only their eyes are open. Poor +things!" + +"They're not very poor anyhow," said Mr. Van Brunt; "there +ain't a finer yoke of oxen to be seen than them are, nor in +better condition." + +He went on throwing the wood out of the cart, and Ellen stood +looking at him. + +"What'll you give me if I'll make you a scup one of these +days?" said Mr. Van Brunt. + +"A scup!" said Ellen. + +"Yes a scup! how would you like it?" + +"I don't know what it is." said Ellen. + +"A scup! may be you don't know it by that name; some folks +call it a swing." + +"A swing! oh, yes," said Ellen, "now I know. Oh, I like it +very much." + +"Would you like to have one?" + +"Yes, indeed I should, very much." + +"Well, what'll you give me, if I'll fix you out?" + +"I don't know," said Ellen, "I have nothing to give; I'll be +very much obliged to you, indeed." + +"Well now, come I'll make a bargain with you: I'll engage to +fix up a scup for you, if you'll give me a kiss." + +Poor Ellen was struck dumb. The good-natured Dutchman had +taken a fancy to the little pale-faced, sad-looking stranger, +and really felt very kindly disposed toward her, but she +neither knew, nor at the moment cared about that. She stood +motionless, utterly astounded at his unheard-of proposal, and +not a little indignant; but when, with a good-natured smile +upon his round face, he came near to claim the kiss he no +doubt thought himself sure of, Ellen shot from him like an +arrow from a bow. She rushed to the house, and bursting open +the door, stood with flushed face and sparkling eyes in the +presence of her astonished aunt. + +"What in the world is the matter?" exclaimed that lady. + +"He wanted to kiss me!" said Ellen, scarce knowing whom she +was talking to, and crimsoning more and more. + +"Who wanted to kiss you?" + +"That man out there." + +"What man?" + +"The man that drives the oxen." + +"What, Mr. Van Brunt?" And Ellen never forgot the loud ha! ha! +which burst from Miss Fortune's wide-open mouth. + +"Well, why didn't you let him kiss you?" + +The laugh, the look, the tone, stung Ellen to the very quick. +In a fury of passion she dashed away out of the kitchen, and +up to her own room. And there, for a while, the storm of anger +drove over her with such violence, that conscience had hardly +time to whisper. Sorrow came in again as passion faded, and +gentler but very bitter weeping took the place of compulsive +sobs of rage and mortification, and then the whispers of +conscience began to be heard a little. "Oh, Mamma! Mamma!" +cried poor Ellen, in her heart, "how miserable I am without +you! I never can like Aunt Fortune it's of no use I never +can like her; I hope I shan't get to hate her! and that +isn't right. I am forgetting all that is good, and there's +nobody to put me in mind. Oh, Mamma! if I could lay my head in +your lap for a minute!" Then came thoughts of her Bible and +hymn-book, and the friend who had given it; sorrowful thoughts +they were; and at last, humbled and sad, poor Ellen sought +that great friend she knew she had displeased, and prayed +earnestly to be made a good child; she felt and owned she was +not one now. + +It was long after mid-day when Ellen rose from her knees. Her +passion was all gone; she felt more gentle and pleasant than +she had done for days; but at the bottom of her heart +resentment was not all gone. She still thought she had cause +to be angry, and she could not think of her aunt's look and +tone without a thrill of painful feeling. In a very different +mood, however, from that in which she had flown up stairs two +or three hours before, she now came softly down, and went out +by the front door to avoid meeting her aunt. She had visited +that morning a little brook, which ran through the meadow on +the other side of the road. It had great charms for her; and +now, crossing the lane and creeping under the fence, she made +her way again to its banks. At a particular spot, where the +brook made one of its sudden turns, Ellen sat down upon the +grass, and watched the dark water whirling, brawling over +the stones, hurrying past her, with ever the same soft, +pleasant sound and she was never tired of it. She did not +hear footsteps drawing near, and it was not till some one was +close beside her, and a voice spoke almost in her ears, that +she raised her startled eyes and saw the little girl who had +come the evening before for a pitcher of milk. + +"What are you doing?" said the latter. + +"I'm watching for fish," said Ellen. + +"Watching for fish!" said the other, rather disdainfully. + +"Yes," said Ellen, "there, in that little quiet place they +come sometimes I've seen two." + +"You can look for fish another time. Come now, and take a walk +with me." + +"Where?" said Ellen. + +"Oh, you shall see. Come! I'll take you all about and show you +where people live. You ha'nt been anywhere yet, have you?" + +"No," said Ellen, "and I should like dearly to go, but" + +She hesitated. Her aunt's words came to mind, that this was +not a good girl, and that she must have nothing to do with +her; but she had not more than half believed them, and she +could not possibly bring herself now to go in and ask Miss +Fortune's leave to take this walk. "I am sure," thought Ellen, +"she would refuse me if there was no reason in the world." And +then the delight of rambling though the beautiful country, and +being for a while in other company than that of her aunt +Fortune and the old grandmother! The temptation was too great +to be withstood. + +"Well, what are you thinking about?" said the girl; "what's +the matter? won't you come?" + +"Yes," said Ellen, "I'm ready. Which way shall we go?" + +With the assurance from the other that she would show her +plenty of ways, they set off down the lane Ellen with a +secret fear of being seen and called back till they had gone +some distance, and the house was hid from view. Then her +pleasure became great. The afternoon was fair and mild, the +footing pleasant, and Ellen felt like a bird out of a cage. +She was ready to be delighted with every trifle; her companion +could not by any means understand or enter into her bursts of +pleasure at many a little thing which she of the black eyes +thought not worthy of notice. She tried to bring Ellen back to +higher subjects of conversion. + +"How long have you been here?" she asked. + +"Oh, a good while," said Ellen "I don't know exactly; it's a +week, I believe." + +"Why, do you call that a good while?" said the other. + +"Well, it seems a good while to me," said Ellen, sighing "it +seems as long as four, I am sure." + +"Then you don't like to live here much, do you?" + +"I had rather be at home, of course." + +"How do you like your aunt Fortune?" + +"How do I like her?" said Ellen, hesitating "I think she's +good-looking, and very smart." + +"Yes, you needn't tell me she's smart everybody knows that; +that ain't what I ask you how do you _like_ her?" + +"How do I like her?" said Ellen, again "how can I tell how I +shall like her? I haven't lived with her but a week yet." + +"You might just as well ha' spoke out," said the other, +somewhat scornfully; "do you think I don't know you half hate +her already? and it'll be whole hating in another week more. +When I first heard you'd come, I guessed you'd have a sweet +time with her." + +"Why?" said Ellen. + +"Oh, don't ask me why," said the other, impatiently, "when you +know as well as I do. Every soul that speaks of you, says +'poor child' and 'I'm glad I ain't her.' You needn't try to +come cunning over me. I shall be too much for you, I tell +you." + +"I don't know what you mean," said Ellen. + +"Oh, no, I suppose you don't," said the other, in the same +tone "of course you don't; I suppose you don't know whether +your tongue is your own or somebody's else. You think Miss +Fortune is an angel, and so do I to be sure she is!" + +Not very pleased with this kind of talk, Ellen walked on for a +while, in grave silence. Her companion meantime recollected +herself; when she spoke again it was with an altered tone. + +"How do you like Mr. Van Brunt?" + +"I don't like him at all," said Ellen, reddening. + +"Don't you!" said the other surprised "why, everybody likes +him. What don't you like him for?" + +"I don't like him," repeated Ellen. + +"Ain't Miss Fortune queer to live in the way she does?" + +"What way?" said Ellen. + +"Why, without any help doing all her own work, and living +all alone, when she's so rich as she is." + +"Is she rich?" asked Ellen. + +"Rich! I guess she is! she's one of the very best farms in the +country, and money enough to have a dozen help, if she wanted +'em. Van Brunt takes care of the farm, you know?" + +"Does he?" said Ellen. + +"Why, yes, of course he does; didn't you know that? what did +you think he was at your house all the time for?" + +"I am sure I don't know," said Ellen. "And are those Aunt +Fortune's oxen that he drives?" + +"To be sure they are. Well, I do think you are green, to have +been there all this time, and not found that out. Mr. Van +Brunt does just what he pleases over the whole farm, though; +hires what help he wants, manages everything; and then he has +his share of all that comes off it. I tell you what you'd +better make friends with Van Brunt, for if anybody can help +you when your aunt gets one of her ugly fits, it's him; she +don't care to meddle with him much." + +Leaving the lane, the two girls took a footpath leading across +the fields. The stranger was greatly amused here with Ellen's +awkwardness in climbing fences. Where it was a possible thing, +she was fain to crawl under; but one or twice that could not +be done, and having, with infinite difficulty, mounted to the +top rail, poor Ellen sat there in a most tottering condition, +uncertain on which side of the fence she should tumble over, +but seeing no other possible way of getting down. The more she +trembled the more her companion laughed, standing aloof +meanwhile, and insisting she should get down by herself. +Necessity enabled her to do this at last, and each time the +task became easier; but Ellen secretly made up her mind that +her new friend was not likely to prove a very good one. + +As they went along, she pointed out to Ellen two or three +houses in the distance, and gave her not a little gossip about +the people who lived in them; but all this Ellen scarcely +heard, and cared nothing at all about. She had paused by the +side of a large rock standing alone by the wayside, and was +looking very closely at its surface. + +"What is this curious brown stuff," said Ellen, "growing all +over the rock like shrivelled and dried-up leaves? Isn't it +curious? part of it stands out like a leaf, and part of it +sticks fast; I wonder if it grows here, or what it is." + +"Oh, never mind," said the other; "it always grows on the +rocks everywhere; I don't know what it is and what's more, I +don't care. 'Tain't worth looking at. Come!" + +Ellen followed her. But presently the path entered an open +woodland, and now her delight broke forth beyond bounds. + +"Oh, how pleasant this is! how lovely this is! Isn't it +beautiful?" she exclaimed. + +"Isn't _what_ beautiful? I do think you are the queerest girl, +Ellen." + +"Why, everything," said Ellen, not minding the latter part of +the sentence; "the ground is beautiful, and those tall trees, +and that beautiful blue sky only look at it!" + +"The ground is all covered with stones and rocks is that +what you call beautiful? and the trees are as homely as they +can be, with their great brown stems and no leaves. Come! +what _are_ you staring at?" + +Ellen's eyes were fixed on a string of dark spots, which were +rapidly passing overhead. + +"Hark!" said she; "do you hear that noise? what is that? what +is that?" + +"Isn't it only a flock of ducks," said the other, +contemptuously; "come! do come!" + +But Ellen was rooted to the ground, and her eyes followed the +airy travellers till the last one had quitted the piece of +blue sky which the surrounding woods left to be seen. And +scarcely were these gone when a second flight came in view, +following exactly in the track of the first. + +"Where are they going?" said Ellen. + +"I am sure I don't know where they are going; they never told +me. I know where _I_ am going; I should like to know whether you +are going along with me." + +Ellen, however, was in no hurry. The ducks had disappeared, +but her eye had caught something else that charmed it. + +"What is this?" said Ellen. + +"Nothing but moss." + +"Is that moss! How beautiful! how green and soft it is! I +declare it's as soft as a carpet." + +"As soft as a carpet!" repeated the other. "I should like to +see a carpet as soft as that! _you_ never did, I guess." + +"Indeed I have, though," said Ellen, who was gently jumping up +and down on the green moss to try its softness, with a face of +great satisfaction. + +"I don't believe it a bit," said the other; "all the carpets I +ever saw were as hard as a board, and harder; as soft as that, +indeed!" + +"Well," said Ellen, still jumping up and down, with bonnet +off, and glowing cheek, and her hair dancing about her face, +"you may believe what you like; but I've seen a carpet as soft +as this, and softer too only one, though." + +"What was it made of?" + +"What other carpets are made of, I suppose. Come, I'll go with +you now. I do think this is the loveliest place I ever did +see. Are there any flowers here in the spring?" + +"I don't know yes, lots of 'em." + +"Pretty ones?" said Ellen. + +"_You'd_ think so, I suppose; I never look at 'em." + +"Oh, how lovely that will be!" said Ellen, clasping her hands. +"How pleasant it must be to live in the country!" + +"Pleasant, indeed!" said the other; "I think it's hateful. +You'd think so, too, if you lived where I do. It makes me mad +at granny every day because she won't go to Thirlwall. Wait +till we get out of the wood, and I'll show you where I live. +You can't see it from here." + +Shocked a little at her companion's language, Ellen again +walked on in sober silence. Gradually the ground became more +broken, sinking rapidly from the side of the path, and rising +again in a steep bank on the other side of a narrow dell; both +sides were thickly wooded, but stripped of green now, except +where here and there a hemlock-fir flung its graceful branches +abroad, and stood in lonely beauty among its leafless +companions. Now the gurgling of waters was heard. + +"Where is that?" said Ellen, stopping short. + +" 'Way down down, at the bottom there. It's the brook." + +"What brook? Not the same that goes by Aunt Fortune's?" + +"Yes, it's the very same. It's the crookest thing you ever +saw. It runs over there," said the speaker, pointing with her +arm, "and then it takes a turn and goes that way, and then it +comes round so, and then it shoots off in that way again and +passes by your house; and after that, the dear knows where it +goes, for I don't. But I don't suppose it could run straight, +if it was to try to." + +"Can't we get down to it?" said Ellen. + +"To be sure we can, unless you're as afraid of steep banks as +you are of fences." + +Very steep indeed it was, and strewn with loose stones; but +Ellen did not falter here, and though once or twice in +imminent danger of exchanging her cautious stepping for one +long roll to the bottom, she got there safely on her two feet. +When there, everything was forgotten in delight. It was a wild +little place. The high, close sides of the dell left only a +little strip of sky overhead; and at their feet ran the brook, +much more noisy and lively here than where Ellen had before +made its acquaintance; leaping from rock to rock, eddying +round large stones, and boiling over the small ones, and now +and then pouring quietly over some great trunk of a tree that +had fallen across its bed and dammed up the whole stream. +Ellen could scarcely contain herself at the magnificence of +many of the waterfalls, the beauty of the little quiet pools +where the water lay still behind some large stone, and the +variety of graceful tiny cascades. + +"Look here, Nancy!" cried Ellen; "that's the Falls of Niagara + do you see? that large one; oh, that is splendid! And this +will do for Trenton Falls what a fine foam it makes! isn't +it a beauty? And what shall we call this? I don't know what to +call it; I wish we could name them all. But there's no end to +them. Oh, just look at that one! That's too pretty not to have +a name; what shall it be?" + +"Black Falls," suggested the other. + +"Black," said Ellen, dubiously, "why! I don't like that." + +"Why, the water's all dark and black, don't you see?" + +"Well," said Ellen; "let it be Black, then; but I don't like +it. Now, remember, this is Niagara, that is Black, and this +is Trenton; and what is this?" + +"If you are going to name them all," said Nancy, "we shan't +get home to-night; you might as well name all the trees +there's a hundred of 'em, and more. I say, Ellen, suppos'n' we +follow the brook instead of climbing up yonder again; it will +take us out to the open fields by and by." + +"Oh, do let's!" said Ellen; "that will be lovely." + +It proved a rough way; but Ellen still thought and called it +"lovely." Often by the side of the stream there was no footing +at all, and the girls picked their way over the stones, large +and small, wet and dry, which strewed its bed; against which +the water foamed, and fumed, and fretted, as if in great +impatience. It was ticklish work getting along over these +stones; now tottering on an unsteady one, now slipping on a +wet one and every now and then making huge leaps from rock +to rock, which there was no other method of reaching, at the +imminent hazard of falling in. But they laughed at the danger; +sprang on in great glee, delighted with the exercise and the +fun; didn't stay long enough anywhere to lose their balance, +and enjoyed themselves amazingly. There was many a hair- +breadth escape; many an _almost_ sousing; but that made it all +the more lively. The brook formed, as Nancy had said, a +constant succession of little waterfalls, its course being +quite steep and very rocky; and in some places there were +pools quite deep enough to have given them a thorough wetting, +to say no more, if they had missed their footing and tumbled +in. But this did not happen. In due time, though with no +little difficulty, they reached the spot where the brook came +forth from the wood into the open day; and thence, making a +sharp turn to the right, skirted along by the edge of the +trees, as if unwilling to part company with them. + +"I guess we'd better get back into the lane now," said Miss +Nancy; "we're a pretty good long way from home." + + +CHAPTER XII. + +Splitters. + + +They left the wood and the brook behind them, and crossed a +large stubble-field; then got over a fence into another. They +were in the midst of this when Nancy stopped Ellen, and bade +her look up towards the west, where towered a high mountain, +no longer hid from their view by the trees. + +"I told you I'd show you where I live," said she. "Look up now + clear to the top of the mountain, almost, and a little to +the right do you see that little mite of a house there? Look +sharp it's a'most as brown as the rock do you see it? it's +close by that big pine-tree, but it don't look big from here + it's just by that little dark spot near the top." + +"I see it," said Ellen "I see it now; do you live away up +there?" + +"That's just what I do; and that's just what I wish I didn't. +But granny likes it; she will live there. I don't know what +for, if it ain't to plague me. Do you think you'd like to live +up on the top of a mountain like that?" + +"No, I don't think I should," said Ellen. "Isn't it very cold +up there?" + +"Cold! you don't know anything about it. The wind comes there, +I tell you! enough to cut you in two; I have to take and hold +on to the trees sometimes, to keep from being blowed away. And +then granny sends me out every morning before it's light, no +matter how deep the snow is, to look for the cow; and it's so +bitter cold, I expect nothing else but I'll be froze to death +some time." + +"Oh!" said Ellen, with a look of horror, "how can she do so!" + +"Oh, she don't care," said the other; "she sees my nose freeze +off every winter, and it don't make no difference." + +"Freeze your nose off!" said Ellen. + +"To be sure," said the other, nodding gravely "every winter; +it grows out again when the warm weather comes." + +"And is that the reason why it is so little?" said Ellen, +innocently, and with great curiosity. + +"Little!" said the other, crimsoning in a fury "what do you +mean by that? it's as big as yours any day, I can tell you." + +Ellen involuntarily put her hand to her face, to see if Nancy +spoke true. Somewhat reassured to find a very decided ridge +where her companion's nose was wanting in the line of beauty, +she answered in her turn + +"It's no such thing, Nancy! you oughtn't to say so; you know +better." + +"I _don't_ know better! I _ought_ to say so!" replied the other, +furiously. "If I had your nose, I'd be glad to have it freeze +off; I'd a sight rather have none. I'd pull it every day, if I +was you, to make it grow." + +"I shall believe what Aunt Fortune said of you was true," said +Ellen. She had coloured very high, but she added no more, and +walked on in dignified silence. Nancy stalked before her in +silence that was meant to be dignified too, though it had not +exactly that air. By degrees each cooled down, and Nancy was +trying to find out what Miss Fortune had said of her, when on +the edge of the next field they met the brook again. After +running a long way to the right, it had swept round, and here +was flowing gently in the opposite direction. But how were +they ever to cross it? The brook ran in a smooth current +between them and a rising bank on the other side, so high as +to prevent their seeing what lay beyond. There were no +stepping-stones now. The only thing that looked like a bridge +was an old log that had fallen across the brook, or perhaps +had at some time or other been put there on purpose; and that +lay more than half in the water; what remained of its surface +was green with moss and slippery with slime. Ellen was sadly +afraid to trust herself on it; but what to do? Nancy soon +settled the question, as far as she was concerned. Pulling off +her thick shoes, she ran fearlessly upon the rude bridge; her +clinging bare feet carried her safely over, and Ellen soon saw +her re-shoeing herself in triumph on the opposite side; but +thus left behind and alone, her own difficulty increased. + +"Pull off your shoes, and do as I did," said Nancy. + +"I can't," said Ellen; "I'm afraid of wetting my feet; I know +mama wouldn't let me." + +"Afraid of wetting your feet!" said the other; "what a +chickaninny you are! Well, if you try to come over with your +shoes on, you'll fall in, I tell you; and then you'll wet more +than your feet. But come along somehow, for I won't stand +waiting here much longer." + +Thus urged, Ellen set out upon her perilous journey over the +bridge. Slowly and fearfully, and with as much care as +possible, she set step by step upon the slippery log. Already +half of the danger was passed, when, reaching forward to grasp +Nancy's outstretched hand, she missed it _perhaps_ that was +Nancy's fault poor Ellen lost her balance, and went in head +foremost. The water was deep enough to cover her completely as +she lay, though not enough to prevent her getting up again. +She was greatly frightened, but managed to struggle up first +to a sitting posture, and then to her feet, and then to wade +out to the shore; though, dizzy and sick, she came near +falling back again more than once. The water was very cold; +and thoroughly sobered, poor Ellen felt chill enough in body +and mind too; all her fine spirits were gone; and not the less +because Nancy's had risen to a great pitch of delight at her +misfortune. The air rang with her laughter; she likened Ellen +to every ridiculous thing she could think of. Too miserable to +be angry, Ellen could not laugh, and would not cry, but she +exclaimed, in distress + +"Oh, what shall I do! I am so cold!" + +"Come along," said Nancy; "give me your hand; we'll run over +to Mrs. Van Brunt's 'tain't far it's just over here. +There," said she, as they got to the top of the bank, and came +within sight of a house standing only a few fields off +"there it is! Run, Ellen, and we'll be there directly." + +"Who is Mrs. Van Brunt?" Ellen contrived to say, as Nancy +hurried her along, + +"Who is she? run, Ellen! why, she's just Mrs. Van Brunt +your Mr. Van Brunt's mother, you know make haste, Ellen! +we had rain enough the other day; I'm afraid it wouldn't be +good for the grass if you stayed too long in one place; hurry! +I'm afraid you'll catch cold you got your feet wet after +all, I'm sure." + +Run they did; and a few minutes brought them to Mrs. Van +Brunt's door. The little brick walk leading to it from the +courtyard gate was as neat as a pin; so was every thing else +the eye could rest on; and when Nancy went in, poor Ellen +stayed _her_ foot at the door, unwilling to carry her wet shoes +and dripping garments any further. She could hear, however, +what was going on. + +"Hillo! Mrs. Van Brunt," shouted Nancy "where are you? oh! +Mrs. Van Brunt, are you out of water? cos if you are I've +brought you a plenty; the person that has it don't want it; +she's just at the door; she wouldn't bring it in till she knew +you wanted it. Oh, Mrs. Van Brunt, don't look so, or you'll +kill me with laughing. Come and see! come and see!" + +The steps within drew near the door, and first Nancy showed +herself, and then a little old woman not very old, either +of very kind, pleasant countenance. + +"What is all this?" said she, in great surprise. "Bless me! +poor little dear! what is this?" + +"Nothing in the world but a drowned rat, Mrs. Van Brunt, don't +you see?" said Nancy. + +"Go home, Nancy Vawse! go home," said the old lady; "you're a +regular bad girl. I do believe this is some mischief o' yourn + go right off home; it's time you were after your cow a great +while ago." + +As she spoke, she drew Ellen in and shut the door. + +"Poor little dear!" said the old lady, kindly, "what has +happened to you? Come to the fire, love, you're trembling with +the cold. Oh, dear! dear! You're soaking wet; this is all +along of Nancy somehow, I know; how was it love? Ain't you +Miss Fortune's little girl? Never mind, don't talk, darling; +there ain't one bit of colour in your face, not one bit." + +Good Mrs. Van Brunt had drawn Ellen to the fire, and all this +while she was pulling off as fast as possible her wet clothes. +Then sending a girl who was in waiting, for clean towels, she +rubbed Ellen dry from head to foot, and wrapping her in a +blanket, left her in a chair before the fire, while she went +to seek something for her to put on. Ellen had managed to tell +who she was, and how her mischance had come about, but little +else, though the kind old lady had kept on pouring out words +of sorrow and pity during the whole time. She came trotting +back directly with one of her own short gowns, the only thing +that she could lay hands on that was anywhere near Ellen's +length. Enormously big it was for her, but Mrs. Van Brunt +wrapped it round and round, and the blanket over it again, and +then she bustled about till she had prepared a tumbler of hot +drink, which she said was to keep Ellen from catching cold. It +was anything but agreeable, being made from some bitter herb, +and sweetened with molasses; but Ellen swallowed it, as she +would anything else at such kind hands, and the old lady +carried her herself into a little room opening out of the +kitchen, and laid her in a bed that had been warmed for her. +Excessively tired and weak as she was, Ellen scarcely needed +the help of the hot herb-tea to fall into a very deep sleep; +perhaps it might not have lasted so very long as it did, but +for that. Afternoon changed for evening, evening grew quite +dark, still Ellen did not stir; and after every little journey +into the bedroom to see how she was doing, Mrs. Van Brunt came +back saying how glad she was to see her sleeping so finely. +Other eyes looked on her for a minute kind and gentle eyes; +though Mrs. Van Brunt's were kind and gentle too; once a soft +kiss touched her forehead there was no danger of waking her. + +It was perfectly dark in the little bedroom, and had been so a +good while, when Ellen was aroused by some noise, and then a +rough voice she knew very well. Feeling faint and weak, and +not more than half awake yet, she lay still and listened. She +heard the outer door open and shut, and then the voice said + +"So, mother, you've got my stray sheep here, have you?" + +"Ay, ay," said the voice of Mrs. Van Brunt; "have you been +looking for her? how did you know she was here?" + +"Looking for her! ay, looking for her ever since sundown. She +has been missing at the house since some time this forenoon. I +believe her aunt got a bit scared about her; any how, I did. +She's a queer little chip, as ever I see." + +"She's a dear little soul, _I_ know," said his mother; "you +needn't say nothin' agin her, I ain't agoing to believe it." + +"No more am I. I'm the best friend she's got, if she only +knowed it; but don't you think," said Mr. Van Brunt, laughing, +"I asked her to give me a kiss this forenoon, and if I'd been +an owl she couldn't ha' been more scared; she went off like a +streak, and Miss Fortune said she was as mad as she could be, +and that's the last of her." + +"How did you find her out?" + +"I met that mischievous Vawse girl, and I made her tell me; +she had no mind to at first. It'll be the worse for Ellen if +she takes to that wicked thing." + +"She won't. Nancy has been taking her a walk, and worked it so +as to get her into the brook, and then brought her here, just +as dripping wet as she could be. I gave her something hot and +put her to bed, and she'll do, I reckon; but I tell you it +gave me queer feelings to see the poor little thing just as +white as ashes, and all of a tremble, and looking so sorrowful +too. She's sleeping finely now; but it ain't right to see a +child's face look so it ain't right," repeated Mrs. Van +Brunt, thoughtfully; "You han't had supper, have you?" + +"No, mother, and I must take that young one back. Ain't she +awake yet?" + +"I'll see directly; but she ain't going home, nor you neither, +'Brahm, till you've got your supper it would be a sin to let +her. She shall have a taste of my splitters this very night; +I've been makin' them o' purpose for her. So you may just take +off your hat and sit down." + +"You mean to let her know where to come when she wants good +things, mother. Well, I won't say splitters ain't worth +waiting for." + +Ellen heard him sit down, and then she guessed from the words +that passed, that Mrs. Van Brunt and her little maid were +busied in making the cakes; she lay quiet. + +"You're a good friend, 'Brahm," began the old lady again; +"nobody knows that better than me; but I hope that poor little +thing has got another one to-day that'll do more for her than +you can." + +"What, yourself, mother? I don't know about that." + +"No, no; do you think I mean myself? there, turn it quick, +Sally! Miss Alice has been here." + +"How? this evening?" + +"Just a little before dark, on her gray pony. She came in for +a minute, and I took her that'll burn, Sally! I took her +in to see the child while she was asleep, and I told her all +you told me about her. She didn't say much, but she looked at +her very sweet, as she always does, and I guess, there now +I'll see after my little sleeper." + +And presently Mrs. Van Brunt came to the bedside with a light, +and her arm full of Ellen's dry clothes. Ellen felt as if she +could have put her arms round her kind old friend, and hugged +her with all her heart; but it was not her way to show her +feelings before strangers. She suffered Mrs. Van Brunt to +dress her in silence, only saying, with a sigh, "How kind you +are to me, Maam!" to which the old lady replied with a kiss, +and telling her she mustn't say a word about that. + +The kitchen was bright with firelight and candlelight; the +tea-table looked beautiful with its piles of white splitters, +besides plenty of other and more substantial things; and at +the corner of the hearth sat Mr. Van Brunt. + +"So," said he, smiling, as Ellen came in and took her stand at +the opposite corner "So I drove you away this morning? You +ain't mad with me yet, I hope." + +Ellen crossed directly over to him, and putting her little +hand in his great rough one, said, "I'm _very_ much obliged to +you, Mr. Van Brunt, for taking so much trouble to come and +look after me." + +She said it with a look of gratitude and trust that pleased +him very much. + +"Trouble, indeed!" said he, good-humouredly, "I'd take twice +as much any day for what you wouldn't give me this forenoon. +But never fear, Miss Ellen, I ain't a going to ask you that +again." + +He shook the little hand; and from that time Ellen and her +rough charioteer were firm friends. + +Mrs. Van Brunt now summoned them to table; and Ellen was well +feasted with the splitters, which were a kind of rich short- +cake, baked in irons, very thin and crisp, and then split in +two and buttered whence their name. A pleasant meal was +that. Whatever an epicure might have thought of the tea, to +Ellen, in her famished state, it was delicious; and no epicure +could have found fault with the cold ham and the butter and +the cakes but far better than all was the spirit of kindness +that was there. Ellen feasted on that more than on anything +else. If her host and hostess were not very polished, they +could not have been outdone in their kind care of her, and +kind attention to her wants. And when the supper was at length +over, Mrs. Van Brunt declared a little colour had come back to +the pale cheeks. The colour came back in good earnest a few +minutes after, when a great tortoise-shell cat walked into the +room. Ellen jumped down from her chair, and presently was +bestowing the tenderest caresses upon pussy, who stretched out +her head and purred as if she liked them very well. + +"What a nice cat!" said Ellen. + +"She has five kittens," said Mrs. Van Brunt. + +"Five kittens!" said Ellen. "Oh, may I come some time and see +them?" + +"You shall see 'em right away, dear, and come as often as you +like, too. Sally, just take a basket, and go fetch them +kittens here." + +Upon this, Mr. Van Brunt began to talk about its being time to +go, if they were going. But his mother insisted that Ellen +should stay where she was; she said she was not fit to go home +that night, that she oughtn't to walk a step, and that " +'Brahm" should go and tell Miss Fortune the child was safe and +well, and would be with her early in the morning. Mr. Van +Brunt shook his head two or three times, but finally agreed, +to Ellen's great joy. When he came back, she was sitting on +the floor before the fire, with all the five kittens in her +lap, and the old mother cat walking around and over her and +them. But she looked up with a happier face then he had ever +seen her wear, and told him she was "_so_ much obliged to him +for taking such a long walk for her;" and Mr. Van Brunt felt +that, like his oxen, he could have done a great deal more with +pleasure. + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +Hope deferred. + + +Before the sun was up the next morning, Mrs. Van Brunt came +into Ellen's room, and aroused her. + +"It's a real shame to wake you up," she said, "when you were +sleeping so finely; but 'Brahm wants to be off to his work, +and won't stay for breakfast. Slept sound, did you?" + +"Oh, yes, indeed; as sound as a top," said Ellen, rubbing her +eyes; "I am hardly awake yet." + +"I declare it's too bad," said Mrs. Van Brunt "but there's +no help for it. You don't feel no headache, do you, nor pain +in your bones?" + +"No, Maam, not a bit of it; I feel nicely." + +"Ah! well," said Mrs. Van Brunt, "then your tumble into the +brook didn't do you any mischief; I thought it wouldn't. Poor +little soul!" + +"I am very glad I did fall in," said Ellen; "for if I hadn't I +shouldn't have come here, Mrs. Van Brunt." + +The old lady instantly kissed her. + +"Oh! mayn't I just take one look at the kitties?" said Ellen, +when she was ready to go. + +"Indeed you shall," said Mrs. Van Brunt, "if 'Brahm's hurry +was ever so much; and it ain't, besides. Come here, dear." + +She took Ellen back to a waste lumber-room, where, in a +corner, on some old pieces of carpet, lay pussy and her +family. How fondly Ellen's hand was passed over each little +soft back! how hard it was for her to leave them! + +"Wouldn't you like to take one home with you, dear?" said Mrs. +Van Brunt, at length. + +"Oh! may I?" said Ellen, looking up in delight; "are you in +earnest? oh, thank you, dear Mrs. Van Brunt! oh, I shall be so +glad!" + +"Well, choose one then, dear choose the one you like best, +and 'Brahm shall carry it for you." + +The choice was made, and Mrs. Van Brunt and Ellen returned to +the kitchen, where Mr. Van Brunt had already been waiting some +time. He shook his head when he saw what was in the basket his +mother handed to him. + +"That won't do," said be; "I can't go that, mother. I'll +undertake to see Miss Ellen safe home, but the cat 'ud be more +than I could manage. I think I'd hardly get off with a whole +skin 'tween the one and t'other." + +"Well, now!" said Mrs. Van Brunt. + +Ellen gave a longing look at her little black and white +favourite, which was uneasily endeavouring to find out the +height of the basket, and mewing at the same time with a most +ungratified expression. However, though sadly disappointed, +she submitted with a very good grace to what could not be +helped. First setting down the little cat out of the basket it +seemed to like so ill, and giving it one farewell pat and +squeeze, she turned to the kind old lady, who stood watching +her, and throwing her arms around her neck, silently spoke her +gratitude in a hearty hug and kiss. + +"Good-bye, Maam," said she; "I may come and see them some +time again, and see you, mayn't I?" + +"Indeed you shall, my darling," said the old woman; "just as +often as you like just as often as you can get away. I'll +make 'Brahm bring you home, sometimes. 'Brahm, you'll bring +her, won't you?" + +"There's two words to that bargain, mother, I can tell you; +but if I don't, I'll know the reason on't." + +And away they went. Ellen drew two or three sighs at first, +but she could not help brightening up soon. It was early not +sunrise; the cool freshness of the air was enough to give one +new life and spirit; the sky was fair and bright; and Mr. Van +Brunt marched along at a quick pace. Enlivened by the +exercise, Ellen speedily forgot everything disagreeable; and +her little head was filled with pleasant things. She watched +where the silver light in the east foretold the sun's coming. +She watched the silver change to gold, till a rich yellow tint +was flung over the whole landscape, and then broke the first +rays of light upon the tops of the western hills the sun was +up. It was a new sight to Ellen. + +"How beautiful! Oh! how beautiful!" she, exclaimed. + +"Yes," said Mr. Van Brunt, in his slow way, "it'll be a fine +day for the field. I guess I'll go with the oxen over to that +'ere big meadow." + +"Just look," said Ellen, "how the light comes creeping down +the side of the mountain now it has got to the wood oh, do +look at the tops of the trees! Oh! I wish Mamma was here!" + +Mr. Van Brunt didn't know what to say to this. He rather +wished so, too, for her sake. + +"There," said Ellen, "now the sunshine is on the fence, and +the road, and everything. I wonder what is the reason that the +sun shines first upon the top of the mountain, and then comes +so slowly down the side; why don't it shine on the whole at +once?" + +Mr. Van Brunt shook his head in ignorance. "He guessed it +always did so," he said. + +"Yes," said Ellen, "I suppose it does; but that's the very +thing I want to know the reason why. And I noticed just now, +it shone in my face before it touched my hands. Isn't it +queer?" + +"Humph! there's a great many queer things, if you come to +that," said Mr. Van Brunt, philosophically. + +But Ellen's head ran on from one thing to another, and her +next question was not so wide of the subject as her companion +might have thought. + +"Mr. Van Brunt, are there any schools about here?" + +"Schools?" said the person addressed; "yes there's plenty of +schools." + +"Good ones?" said Ellen. + +"Well, I don't exactly know about that; there's Captain +Conklin's, that had ought to be a good 'un; he's a regular +smart man, they say." + +"Whereabouts is that?" said Ellen. + +"His school? it's a mile or so the other side of my house." + +"And how far is it from your house to Aunt Fortune's?" + +"A good deal better than two mile; but we'll be there before +long. You ain't tired, be you?" + +"No," said Ellen. But this reminder gave a new turn to her +thoughts, and her spirits were suddenly checked. Her former +brisk and springing step changed to so slow and lagging a one, +that Mr. Van Brunt more than once repeated his remark that he +saw she was tired. + +If it was that, Ellen grew tired very fast; she lagged more +and more as they neared the house, and at last fell quite +behind, and allowed Mr. Van Brunt to go in first. + +Miss Fortune was busy about the breakfast, and as Mr. Van +Brunt afterwards described it, "looking as if she could have +bitten off a ten-penny nail," and, indeed, as if the operation +would have been rather gratifying than otherwise. She gave +them no notice at first, bustling to and fro with great +energy, but all of a sudden she brought up directly in front +of Ellen, and said + +"Why didn't you come home last night?" + +The words were jerked out rather than spoken. + +"I got wet in the brook," said Ellen, "and Mrs. Van Brunt was +so kind as to keep me." + +"Which way did you go out of the house yesterday?" + +"Through the front door." + +"The front door was locked." + +"I unlocked it." + +"What did you go out that way for?" + +"I didn't want to come this way." + +"Why not?" + +Ellen hesitated. + +"Why not?" demanded Miss Fortune, still more emphatically than +before. + +"I did't want to see you, Maam," said Ellen, flushing. + +"If ever you do so again!" said Miss Fortune, in a kind of +cold fury; "I've a great mind to whip you for this, as ever I +had to eat." + +The flush faded on Ellen's cheek, and a shiver visibly passed +over her not from fear. She stood with downcast eyes and +compressed lips, a certain instinct of childish dignity +warning her to be silent. Mr. Van Brunt put himself in +between. + +"Come, come!" said he, "this is getting to be too much of a +good thing. Beat your cream, Maam, as much as you like; or if +you want to try your hand on something else, you'll have to +take me first, I promise you." + +"Now, don't _you_ meddle, Van Brunt," said the lady, sharply, +"with what ain't no business o' yourn." + +"I don't know about that," said Mr. Van Brunt "maybe it _is_ +my business; but meddle or no meddle, Miss Fortune, it is time +for me to be in the field; and if you han't no better +breakfast for Miss Ellen and me than all this here, we'll just +go right away hum again; but there's something in your kettle +there that smells uncommonly nice, and I wish you'd just let +us have it, and no more words." + +No more words did Miss Fortune waste on any one that morning. +She went on with her work, and dished up the breakfast in +silence, and with a face that Ellen did not quite understand; +only she thought she had never in her life seen one so +disagreeable. The meal was a very solemn and uncomfortable +one. Ellen could scarcely swallow, and her aunt was near in +the same condition. Mr. Van Brunt and the old lady alone +despatched their breakfast as usual; with no other attempts at +conversation than the common mumbling on the part of the +latter, which nobody minded, and one or two strange grunts +from the former, the meaning of which, if they had any, nobody +tried to find out. + +There was a breach now between Ellen and her aunt that neither +could make any effort to mend. Miss Fortune did not renew the +disagreeable conversation that Mr. Van Brunt had broken off; +she left Ellen entirely to herself, scarcely speaking to her, +or seeming to know when she went out or came in. And this +lasted day after day. Wearily they passed. After one or two, +Mr. Van Brunt seemed to stand just where he did before in Miss +Fortune's good graces; but not Ellen. To her, when others were +not by, her face wore constantly something of the same cold, +hard, disagreeable expression it had put on after Mr. Van +Brunt's interference a look that Ellen came to regard with +absolute abhorrence. She kept away by herself as much as she +could; but she did not know what to do with her time, and for +want of something better often spent it in tears. She went to +bed cheerless night after night, and arose spiritless morning +after morning; and this lasted till Mr. Van Brunt more than +once told his mother that "that poor little thing was going +wandering about like a ghost, and growing thinner and paler +every day; and he didn't know what she would come to if she +went on so." + +Ellen longed now for a letter with unspeakable longing but +none came; day after day brought new disappointment, each +day more hard to bear. Of her only friend, Mr. Van Brunt, she +saw little; he was much away in the fields during the fine +weather; and when it rained, Ellen herself was prisoner at +home, whither he never came but at meal times. The old +grandmother was very much disposed to make much of her; but +Ellen shrank, she hardly knew why, from her fond caresses, and +never found herself alone with her if she could help it; for +then she was regularly called to the old lady's side, and +obliged to go through a course of kissing, fondling, and +praising she would gladly have escaped. In her aunt's presence +this was seldom attempted, and never permitted to go on. Miss +Fortune was sure to pull Ellen away, and bid her mother "stop +that palavering," avowing that "it made her sick." Ellen had +one faint hope that her aunt would think of sending her to +school, as she employed her in nothing at home, and certainly +took small delight in her company; but no hint of the kind +dropped from Miss Fortune's lips; and Ellen's longing look for +this as well as for a word from her mother, was daily doomed +to be ungratified, and to grow more keen by delay. + +One pleasure only remained to Ellen in the course of the day, +and that one she enjoyed with the carefulness of a miser. It +was seeing the cows milked morning and evening. For this she +got up very early, and watched till the men came for the +pails; and then away she bounded, out of the house and to the +barnyard. There were the milky mothers, five in number, +standing about, each in her own corner of the yard or +cowhouse, waiting to be relieved of their burden of milk. They +were fine, gentle animals, in excellent condition, and looking +every way happy and comfortable; nothing living under Mr. Van +Brunt's care was ever suffered to look otherwise. He was +always in the barn or barnyard at milking time, and under his +protection Ellen felt safe, and looked on at her ease. It was +a very pretty scene at least, she thought so. The gentle +cows standing quietly to be milked as if they enjoyed it, and +munching the cud; and the white streams of milk foaming into +the pails; then there was the interest of seeing whether Sam +or Johnny would get through first; and how near Jane or Dolly +would come to rivalling Streaky's fine pailful; and at last +Ellen allowed Mr. Van Brunt to teach herself how to milk. She +began with trembling, but learnt fast enough; and more than +one pailful of milk that Miss Fortune strained, had been, +unknown to her, drawn by Ellen's fingers. These minutes in the +farm-yard were the pleasantest in Ellen's day. While they +lasted every care was forgotten, and her little face was as +bright as the morning; but the milking was quickly over, and +the cloud gathered on Ellen's brow almost as soon as the +shadow of the house fell upon it. + +"Where is the post-office, Mr. Van Brunt?" she asked, one +morning, as she stood watching the sharpening of an axe upon +the grindstone. The axe was in that gentleman's hand, and its +edge carefully laid to the whirling-stone, which one of the +farm-boys was turning. + +"Where is the post office? Why, over to Thirlwall, to be +sure," replied Mr. Van Brunt, glancing up at her from his work +"faster, Johnny." + +"And how often do the letters come here?" said Ellen. + +"Take care, Johnny! some more water mind your business, +will you? Just as often as I go to fetch 'em, Miss Ellen, +and no oftener." + +"And how often do you go, Mr. Van Brunt?" + +"Only when I've some other errand Miss Ellen; my grain would +never be in the barn if I was running to the post-office every +other thing and for what ain't there, too. I don't get a +letter but two or three times a-year I s'pose, though I call +I guess half-a-dozen times." + +"Ah, but there's one there now, or soon will be, I know, for +me," said Ellen. "When do you think you will go again, Mr. Van +Brunt?" + +"Now, if I'd ha' know'd that, I'd ha' gone to Thirlwall +yesterday I was within a mile of it. I don't see as I can go +this week, anyhow, in the world; but I'll make some errand +there the first day I can, Miss Ellen that you may depend +on. You shan't wait for your letter a bit longer than I can +help." + +"Oh, thank you, Mr. Van Brunt you're very kind. Then the +letters never come except when you go after them?" + +"No; yes they do come once in a while by old Mr. Swaim, +but he han't been here this great while." + +"And who's he?" said Ellen. + +"Oh, he's a queer old chip that goes round the country on all +sorts of errands; he comes along once in a while. That'll do, +Johnny I believe this here tool is as sharp as I have any +occasion for." + +"What's the use of pouring water upon the grindstone?" said +Ellen; "why wouldn't it do as well dry?" + +"I can't tell, I am sure," replied Mr. Van Brunt, who was +slowly drawing his thumb over the edge of the axe; "your +questions are a good deal too sharp for me, Miss Ellen; I only +know it would spoil the axe, or the grindstone, or both, most +likely." + +"It's very odd," said Ellen, thoughtfully "I wish I knew +everything. But, O dear! I am not likely to know anything," +said she, her countenance suddenly changing from its pleased +inquisitive look to a cloud of disappointment and sorrow. Mr. +Van Brunt noticed the change. + +"Ain't your aunt going to send you to school, then?" said he. + +"I don't know," said Ellen, sighing "she never speaks about +it, nor about anything else. But I declare I'll make her!" she +exclaimed, changing again. "I'll go right in and ask her, and +then she'll have to tell me. I will! I am tired of living so. +I'll know what she means to do, and then I can tell what _I_ +must do." + +Mr. Van Brunt, seemingly dubious about the success of this +line of conduct, stroked his chin and his axe alternately two +or three times in silence, and finally walked off. Ellen, +without waiting for her courage to cool, went directly into +the house. + +Miss Fortune, however, was not in the kitchen; to follow her +into her secret haunts, the dairy, cellar, or lower kitchen, +was not to be thought of. Ellen waited a while, but her aunt +did not come, and the excitement of the moment cooled down. +She was not quite so ready to enter upon the business as she +had felt at first; she had even some qualms about it. + +"But I'll do it!" said Ellen to herself "it will be hard, +but I'll do it!" + + +CHAPTER XIV. +Work _not_ deferred. + + +The next morning, after breakfast, Ellen found the chance she +rather dreaded than wished for. Mr. Van Brunt had gone out; +the old lady had not left her room, and Miss Fortune was +quietly seated by the fire, busied with some mysteries of +cooking. Like a true coward, Ellen could not make up her mind +to bolt at once into the thick of the matter, but thought to +come to it gradually always a bad way. + +"What is that, Aunt Fortune?" said she, after she had watched +her with a beating heart for about five minutes. + +"What is what?" + +"I mean, what is that you are straining through the colander +into that jar?" + +"Hop-water." + +"What is it for?" + +"I'm scalding this meal with it to make turnpikes." + +"Turnpikes!" said Ellen "I thought turnpikes were high, +smooth roads, with toll-gates every now and then that's what +Mamma told me they were." + +"That's all the kind of turnpikes your Mamma knew anything +about, I reckon," said Miss Fortune, in a tone that conveyed +the notion that Mrs. Montgomery's education had been very +incomplete. "And indeed," she added, immediately after, "if +she had made more turnpikes and paid fewer tolls, it would +have been just as well, I'm thinking." + +Ellen felt the tone, if she did not thoroughly understand the +words. She was silent for a moment; then remembering her +purpose, she began again + +"What are these, then, aunt Fortune?" + +"Cakes, child, cakes turnpike-cakes what I raise the bread +with." + +"What, those little brown cakes I have seen you melt in water +and mix in the flour when you make bread?" + +"Mercy on us! yes! you've seen hundreds of 'em since you've +been here, if you never saw one before." + +"I never did," said Ellen. "But what are they called turnpikes +for?" + +"The land knows! I don't. For mercy's sake, stop asking me +questions, Ellen; I don't know what's gotten into you; you'll +drive me crazy." + +"But there's one more question I want to ask very much," said +Ellen, with her heart beating. + +"Well, ask it, then, quick, and have done, and take yourself +off. I have other fish to fry than to answer all your +questions." + +Miss Fortune, however, was still quietly seated by the fire +stirring her meal and hop-water, and Ellen could not be quick; +the words stuck in her throat came out at last. + +"Aunt Fortune, I wanted to ask you if I may go to school." + +"Yes." + +Ellen's heart sprang with a feeling of joy, a little qualified +by the peculiar dry tone in which the word was uttered. + +"When may I go?" + +"As soon as you like." + +"Oh, thank you, Maam. To which school shall I go, Aunt +Fortune?" + +"To whichever you like." + +"But I don't know anything about them," said Ellen "how can +I tell which is best?" + +Miss Fortune was silent. + +"What schools are there near here?" said Ellen. + +"There's Captain Conklin's down at the Cross, and Miss +Emerson's at Thirlwall." + +Ellen hesitated. The name was against her, but nevertheless +she concluded on the whole that the lady's school would be the +pleasantest. + +"Is Miss Emerson any relation of yours?" she asked. + +"No." + +"I think I should like to go to her school the best. I will go +there if you let me may I?" + +"Yes." + +"And I will begin next Monday may I?" + +"Yes." + +Ellen wished exceedingly that her aunt would speak in some +other tone of voice; it was a continual damper to her rising +hopes. + +"I'll get my books ready," said she "and look 'em over a +little, too, I guess. But what will be the best way for me to +go, Aunt Fortune?" + +"I don't know." + +"I couldn't walk so far, could I?" + +"You know best." + +"I couldn't, I am sure," said Ellen. "It's four miles to +Thirlwall, Mr. Van Brunt said; and that would be too much for +me to walk twice a day; and I should be afraid besides." + +A dead silence. + +"But Aunt Fortune, do please tell me what I am to do. How can +I know unless you tell me? What way is there that I can go to +school?" + +"It is unfortunate that I don't keep a carriage," said Miss +Fortune "but Mr. Van Brunt can go for you morning and +evening in the ox-cart, if that will answer." + +"The ox-cart! But, dear me! it would take him all day, Aunt +Fortune. It takes hours and hours to go and come with the oxen + Mr. Van Brunt wouldn't have time to do anything but carry me +to school, and bring me home." + +"Of course but that's of no consequence," said Miss Fortune, +in the same dry tone. + +"Then I can't go there's no help for it," said Ellen +despondingly. "Why didn't you say so before? When you said +yes, I thought you meant yes." + +She covered her face. Miss Fortune rose with a half-smile and +carried her jar of scalded meal into the pantry. She then came +back and commenced the operation of washing up the breakfast- +things. + +"Ah, if I only had a little pony," said Ellen, "that would +carry me there and back, and go trotting about with me +everywhere how nice that would be!" + +"Yes, that would be very nice! And who do you think would go +trotting about after the pony? I suppose you would leave that +to Mr. Van Brunt; and I should have to go trotting about after +you, to pick you up in case you broke your neck in some ditch +or gulley it would be a very nice affair altogether, I +think." + +Ellen was silent. Her hopes had fallen to the ground, and her +disappointment was unsoothed by one word of kindness or +sympathy. With all her old grievances fresh in her mind, she +sat thinking her aunt was the very most disagreeable person +she ever had the misfortune to meet with. No amiable feelings +were working within her; and the cloud on her brow was of +displeasure and disgust, as well as sadness and sorrow. Her +aunt saw it. + +"What are you thinking of?" said she, rather sharply. + +"I am thinking," said Ellen, "I am very sorry I cannot go to +school." + +"Why, what do you want to learn so much? you know how to read +and write and cipher, don't you?" + +"Read and write and cipher!" said Ellen "to be sure I do; +but that's nothing; that's only the beginning." + +"Well, what do you want to learn besides?" + +"Oh, a great many things." + +"Well, what?" + +"Oh, a great many things," said Ellen; "French, and Italian, +and Latin, and music, and arithmetic, and chemistry, and all +about animals, and plants; and insects I forget what it's +called and oh, I can't recollect; a great many things. +Every now and then I think of something I want to learn; I +can't remember them now. But I am doing nothing," said Ellen, +sadly "learning nothing I am not studying and improving +myself as I meant to; Mamma will be disappointed when she +comes back; and I meant to please her so much!" + +The tears were fast coming; she put her hand upon her eyes to +force them back. + +"If you are so tired of being idle," said Miss Fortune, "I'll +warrant I'll give you something to do; and something to learn, +too, that you want enough, more than all those crinkum- +crankums; I wonder what good they'd ever do you! That's the +way your mother was brought up, I suppose. If she had been +trained to use her hands and do something useful, instead of +thinking herself above it, maybe she wouldn't have had to go +to sea for her health just now; it doesn't do for women to be +bookworms." + +"Mamma isn't a bookworm!" said Ellen, indignantly; "I don't +know what you mean; and she never thinks of herself above +being useful; it's very strange you should say so when you +don't know anything about her." + +"I know she han't brought you up to know manners, anyhow," +said Miss Fortune. "Look here I'll give you something to do + just you put those plates and dishes together ready for +washing while I am down stairs." + +Ellen obeyed, unwillingly enough. She had neither knowledge of +the business nor any liking for it; so it is no wonder Miss +Fortune at her return was not well pleased. + +"But I never did such a thing before," said Ellen. + +"There it is now!" said Miss Fortune. "I wonder where your +eyes have been every single time that I have done it since you +have been here. I should think your own sense might have told +you! But you're too busy learning of Mr. Van Brunt to know +what's going on in the house. Is that what you call made ready +for washing? Now just have the goodness to scrape every plate +clean off and put them nicely in a pile here; and turn out the +slops out of the tea cups and saucers, and set them by +themselves. Well! what makes you handle them so? are you +afraid they'll burn you?" + +"I don't like to take hold of things people have drunk out +of," said Ellen, who was indeed touching the cups and saucers +very delicately with the tips of her fingers. + +"Look here," said Miss Fortune "don't you let me hear no +more of that, or I vow I'll give you something to do you won't +like. Now, put the spoons here, and the knives and forks +together here; and carry the salt-cellar, and the pepper-box, +and the butter and the sugar into the buttery." + +"I don't know where to put them," said Ellen. + +"Come along then, and I'll show you; it's time you did. I +reckon you'll feel better when you've something to do, and you +shall have plenty. There, put them in that cupboard, and set +the butter up here, and put the bread in this box, do you see? +now don't let me have to show you twice over." + +This was Ellen's first introduction to the buttery; she had +never dared go in there before. It was a long light closet or +pantry, lined on the left side, and at the further end, with +wide shelves up to the ceiling. On these shelves stood many +capacious pans and basins, of tin and earthenware, filled with +milk, and most of them coated with superb yellow cream. Midway +was the window, before which Miss Fortune was accustomed to +skim her milk; and at the side of it was the mouth of a wooden +pipe, or covered trough, which conveyed the refuse milk down +to an enormous hogshead standing at the lower kitchen door, +whence it was drawn as wanted for the use of the pigs. Beyond +the window in the buttery, and on the higher shelves were rows +of yellow cheeses; forty or fifty were there, at least. On the +right hand of the door was the cupboard, and a short range of +shelves, which held in ordinary all sorts of matters for the +table, both dishes and eatables. Floor and shelves were well +painted with thick yellow paint, hard and shining, and clean +as could be; and there was a faint pleasant smell of dairy +things. + +Ellen did not find out all this at once, but in the course of +a day or two, during which her visits to the buttery were +many. Miss Fortune kept her word, and found her plenty to do; +Ellen's life soon became a pretty busy one. She did not like +this at all; it was a kind of work she had no love for; yet no +doubt it was a good exchange for the miserable moping life she +had lately led. Any thing was better than that. One concern, +however, lay upon poor Ellen's mind with pressing weight her +neglected studies and wasted time; for no better than wasted +she counted it. "What shall I do?" she said to herself, after +several of these busy days had passed; "I am doing nothing I +am learning nothing I shall forget all I have learnt +directly. At this rate, I shall not know any more than all +these people around me; and what _will_ Mamma say? Well, if I +can't go to school, I know what I will do," she said, taking a +sudden resolve "I'll study by myself! I'll see what I can +do; it will be better than nothing, any way. I'll begin this +very day!" + +With new life Ellen sprang up stairs to her room, and +forthwith began pulling all the things out of her trunk to get +at her books. They were at the very bottom; and by the time +she had reached them, half the floor was strewn with the +various articles of her wardrobe: without minding them in her +first eagerness, Ellen pounced at the books. + +"Here you are, my dear Numa Pompilius," said she, drawing out +a little French book she had just begun to read; "and here you +are, old grammar and dictionary and here is my history +very glad to see you, Mr. Goldsmith! and what in the world +is this? wrapped up as if it was something great oh! my +expositor; I am not glad to see _you_, I am sure; never want to +look at your face or your back again. My copy-book I wonder +who'll set copies for me now; my arithmetic, that's you! +geography and atlas all right; and my slate; but dear me, +I don't believe I've such a thing as a slate-pencil in the +world; where shall I get one, I wonder? well, I'll manage. +And that's all that's all, I believe." + +With all her heart Ellen would have begun her studying at +once, but there were all her things on the floor, silently +saying, "Put us up first." + +"I declare," she said to herself, "it's too bad to have +nothing in the shape of a bureau to keep one's clothes in. I +wonder if I am to live in a trunk, as Mamma says, all the time +I am here, and have to go down to the bottom of it every time +I want a pocket-handkerchief or a pair of stockings. How I do +despise those gray stockings! But what can I do? it's too +bad to squeeze my nice things up so. I wonder what is behind +those doors? I'll find out, I know, before long." + +On the north side of Ellen's room were three doors. She had +never opened them, but now took it into her head to see what +was there, thinking she might possibly find what would help +her out of her difficulty. She had some little fear of +meddling with anything in her aunt's domain; so she fastened +her own door, to guard against interruption while she was +busied in making discoveries. + +At the foot of her bed, in the corner, was one large door, +fastened by a button, as indeed they were all. This opened, +she found, upon a flight of stairs, leading, as she supposed, +to the garret, but Ellen did not care to go up and see. They +were lighted by half of a large window, across the middle of +which the stairs went up. She quickly shut that door, and +opened the next, a little one. Here she found a tiny closet +under the stairs, lighted by the other half of the window. +There was nothing in it but a broad, low shelf or step under +the stairs, where Ellen presently decided she could stow away +her books very nicely. "It only wants a little brushing out," +said Ellen, "and it will do very well." The other door, in the +other corner, admitted her to a large light closet, perfectly +empty. "Now, if there were only some hooks or pegs here," +thought Ellen, "to hang up dresses on; but why shouldn't I +drive some nails? I will! I will! Oh, that'll be fine!" + +Unfastening her door in a hurry, she ran down stairs; and her +heart beating, between pleasure and the excitement of daring +so far without her aunt's knowledge, she ran out and crossed +the chip-yard to the barn, where she had some hope of finding +Mr. Van Brunt. By the time she got to the little cowhouse +door, a great noise of knocking or pounding in the barn made +her sure he was there, and she went on to the lower barn- +floor. There he was, he and the two farm-boys (who, by-the-by, +were grown men), all three threshing wheat. Ellen stopped at +the door, and for a minute forgot what she had come for in the +pleasure of looking at them. The clean floor was strewn with +grain, upon which the heavy flails came down one after +another, with quick, regular beat one two three one +two three, keeping perfect time. The pleasant sound could +be heard afar off; though, indeed, where Ellen stood, it was +rather too loud to be pleasant. Her little voice had no chance +of being heard; she stood still and waited. Presently, Johnny, +who was opposite, caught a sight of her, and, without stopping +his work, said to his leader, "Somebody there for you, Mr. Van +Brunt." That gentleman's flail ceased its motion, then he +threw it down, and went to the door to help Ellen up the high +step. + +"Well," said he, "have you come to see what's going on?" + +"No," said Ellen, "I've been looking but Mr. Van Brunt, +could you be so good as to let me have a hammer and half-a- +dozen nails?" + +"A hammer and half-a-dozen nails; come this way," said he. + +They went out of the barn-yard and across the chip-yard to an +out-house below the garden, and not far from the spout, called +the poultry-house; though it was quite as much the property of +the hogs, who had a regular sleeping apartment there, where +corn was always fed out to the fatting ones. Opening a kind of +granary store-room, where the corn for this purpose was +stowed, Mr. Van Brunt took down from a shelf a large hammer +and a box of nails, and asked Ellen what size she wanted. + +"Pretty large." + +"So?" + +"No, a good deal bigger yet, I should like." + +"A good deal bigger yet who wants 'em?" + +"I do," said Ellen, smiling. + +"You do! do you think your little arms can manage that big +hammer?" + +"I don't know; I guess so; I'll try." + +"Where do you want 'em driv?" + +"Up in a closet in my room," said Ellen, speaking as softly as +if she had feared her aunt was at the corner; "I want 'em to +hang up dresses and things." + +Mr. Van Brunt half smiled, and put up the hammer and nails on +the shelf again. + +"Now, I'll tell you what we'll do," said he; "you can't +manage them big things; I'll put 'em up for you to-night when +I come in to supper." + +"But I'm afraid she won't let you," said Ellen, doubtfully. + +"Never you mind about that," said he, "I'll fix it. Maybe we +won't ask her." + +"Oh, thank you!" said Ellen, joyfully, her face recovering its +full sunshine in answer to his smile, and clapping her hands, +she ran back to the house, while more slowly Mr. Van Brunt +returned to the threshers. Ellen seized dustpan and brush, and +ran up to her room; and setting about the business with right +good will, she soon had her closets in beautiful order. The +books, writing desk, and work-box were then bestowed very +carefully in the one; in the other her coats and dresses, +neatly folded up in a pile on the floor, waiting till the +nails should be driven. Then the remainder of her things were +gathered up from the floor, and neatly arranged in the trunk +again. Having done all this, Ellen's satisfaction was +unbounded. By this time dinner was ready. As soon after dinner +as she could escape from Miss Fortunes's calls upon her, Ellen +stole up to her room and her books, and began work in earnest. +The whole afternoon was spent over sums, and verbs, and maps, +and pages of history. A little before tea, as Ellen was +setting the table, Mr. Van Brunt came into the kitchen with a +bag on his back. + +"What have you got there, Mr. Van Brunt?" said Miss Fortune. + +"A bag of seed-corn." + +"What are you going to do with it?" + +"Put it up in the garret for safe keeping." + +"Set it down in the corner, and I'll take it up to-morrow." + +"Thank you, Maam; rather go myself, if it's all the same to +you. You needn't be scared, I've left my shoes at the door. +Miss Ellen, I believe I've got to go through your room." + +Ellen was glad to run before, to hide her laughter. When they +reached her room, Mr. Van Brunt produced a hammer out of the +bag, and taking a handful of nails from his pocket, put up a +fine row of them along her closet wall, then, while she hung +up her dresses, he went on to the garret, and Ellen heard him +hammering there, too. Presently he came down, and they +returned to the kitchen. + +"What's all that knocking?" said Miss Fortune. + +"I've been driving some nails," said Mr. Van Brunt, coolly. + +"Up in the garret?" + +"Yes, and in Miss Ellen's closet; she said she wanted some." + +"You should ha' spoken to _me_ about it," said Miss Fortune to +Ellen. There was displeasure enough in her face: but she said +no more, and the matter blew over much better than Ellen had +feared. + +Ellen steadily pursued her plans of studying, in spite of some +discouragements. + +A letter, written about ten days after, gave her mother an +account of her endeavours and of her success. It was a +despairing account. Ellen complained that she wanted help to +understand, and lacked time to study; that her aunt kept her +busy, and, she believed, took pleasure in breaking her off +from her books; and she bitterly said, her mother must expect +to find an ignorant little daughter when she came home. It +ended with "Oh, if I could just see you, and kiss you, and put +my arms round you, Mamma, I'd be willing to die!" + +This letter was dispatched the next morning by Mr. Van Brunt; +and Ellen waited and watched with great anxiety for his return +from Thirlwall in the afternoon. + + +CHAPTER XV. + +Mother earth rather than aunt Fortune. + + +The afternoon was already half spent when Mr. Van Brunt's ox- +cart was seen returning. Ellen was standing by the little gate +that opened on the chip-yard; and with her heart beating +anxiously, she watched the slow-coming oxen; how slowly they +came! At last they turned out of the lane, and drew the cart +up the ascent; and stopping beneath the apple tree, Mr. Van +Brunt leisurely got down, and flinging back his whip, came to +the gate. But the little face that met him there quivering +with hope and fear made his own quite sober. "I'm really _very_ +sorry, Miss Ellen" he began. + +That was enough. Ellen waited to hear no more, but turned +away, the cold chill of disappointment coming over her heart. +She had borne the former delays pretty well, but this was one +too many, and she felt sick. She went round to the front +stoop, where scarcely ever anybody came, and sitting down on +the steps, wept sadly and despairingly. + +It might have been half an hour or more after, that the +kitchen door slowly opened, and Ellen came in. Wishing her +aunt should not see her swollen eyes, she was going quietly +through to her own room, when Miss Fortune called her. Ellen +stopped. Miss Fortune was sitting before the fire with an open +letter lying in her lap, and another in her hand. The latter +she held out to Ellen, saying, "Here, child, come and take +this." + +"What is it?" said Ellen, slowly coming towards her. + +"Don't you see what it is?" said Miss Fortune, still holding +it out. + +"But who is it from?" said Ellen. + +"Your mother." + +"A letter from Mamma, and not to me!" said Ellen, with +changing colour. She took it quick from her aunt's hand. But +her colour changed more as her eye fell upon the first words, +"My dear Ellen," and turning the paper, she saw upon the back, +"Miss Ellen Montgomery." Her next look was to her aunt's face, +with her eye fired, and her cheek paled with anger, and when +she spoke her voice was not the same. + +"This is _my_ letter," she said, trembling; "who opened it?" + +Miss Fortune's conscience must have troubled her a little, for +her eye wavered uneasily. Only for a second, though. + +"Who opened it?" she answered; "_I_ opened it. I should like to +know who has a better right. And I shall open every one that +comes, to serve you for looking so; that you may depend +upon." + +The look, and the words, and the injury together, fairly put +Ellen beside herself. She dashed the letter to the ground, and +livid and trembling with various feelings, rage was not the +only one, she ran from her aunt's presence. She did not shed +any tears now; she could not; they were absolutely burnt up by +passion. She walked her room with trembling steps, clasping +and wringing her hands now and then, wildly thinking what +_could_ she do to get out of this dreadful state of things, and +unable to see anything but misery before her. She walked, for +she could not sit down; but presently she felt that she could +not breathe the air of the house; and taking her bonnet, she +went down, passed through the kitchen, and went out. Miss +Fortune asked where she was going, and bade her stay within +doors, but Ellen paid no attention to her. + +She stood still a moment outside the little gate. She might +have stood long to look. The mellow light of an Indian summer +afternoon lay upon the meadow and the old barn and chip-yard; +there was beauty in them all under its smile. Not a breath was +stirring. The rays of the sun struggled through a blue haze, +which hung upon the hills and softened every distant object; +and the silence of nature all around was absolute, made more +noticeable by the far-off voice of somebody, it might be Mr. +Van Brunt calling to his oxen, very far off and not to be +seen; the sound came softly to her ear through the stillness. +"Peace," was the whisper of nature to her troubled child; but +Ellen's heart was in a whirl; she could not hear the whisper. +It was a relief, however, to be out of the house and in the +sweet open air. Ellen breathed more freely, and pausing a +moment there, and clasping her hands together once more in +sorrow, she went down the road, and out at the gate, and +exchanging her quick, broken step for a slow, measured one, +she took the way towards Thirlwall. Little regarding the +loveliness which that day was upon every slope and roadside, +Ellen presently quitted the Thirlwall road, and, half +unconsciously, turned into a path on the left which she had +never taken before perhaps for that reason. It was not much +travelled, evidently; the grass grew green on both sides, and +even in the middle of the way, though here and there the track +of wheels could be seen. Ellen did not care about where she +was going; she only found it pleasant to walk on, and get +further from home. The road or lane led towards a mountain +somewhat to the northward of Miss Fortune's; the same which +Mr. Van Brunt had once named to Ellen as "The Nose." After +three-quarters of an hour, the road began gently to ascend the +mountain, rising towards the north. About one-third of the way +from the bottom, Ellen came to a little footpath on the left, +which allured her by its promise of prettiness, and she +forsook the lane for it. The promise was abundantly fulfilled; +it was a most lovely, wild, woodway path; but withal not a +little steep and rocky. Ellen began to grow weary. The lane +went on towards the north; the path rather led off towards the +southern edge of the mountain, rising all the while; but +before she reached that, Ellen came to what she thought a good +resting-place, where the path opened upon a small level +platform or ledge of the hill. The mountain rose steep behind +her, and sank very steep immediately before her, leaving a +very superb view of the open country from the north-east to +the south-east. Carpeted with moss, and furnished with fallen +stones and pieces of rock, this was a fine resting-place for +the wayfarer, or loitering-place for the lover of nature. +Ellen seated herself on one of the stones, and looked sadly +and wearily towards the east, at first very careless of the +exceeding beauty of what she beheld there. + +For miles and miles, on every side but the west, lay stretched +before her a beautifully broken country. The November haze +hung over it now like a thin veil, giving great sweetness and +softness to the scene. Far in the distance a range of low +hills showed like a misty cloud; near by, at the mountain's +foot, the fields and farmhouses and roads lay, a pictured +map. About a mile and a half to the south, rose the mountain +where Nancy Vawse lived, craggy and bare; but the leafless +trees, and stern, jagged rocks were wrapped in the haze; and +through this the sun, now near the setting, threw his +mellowing rays, touching every slope and ridge with a rich, +warm glow. + +Poor Ellen did not heed the picturesque effect of all this, +yet the sweet influences of nature reached her, and softened +while they increased her sorrow. She felt her own heart sadly +out of tune with the peace and loveliness of all she saw. Her +eye sought those distant hills how very far off they were! +and yet all that wide tract of country was but a little piece +of what lay between her and her mother. Her eye sought those +hills but her mind overpassed them, and went far beyond, +over many such a tract, till it reached the loved one at last. +"But, oh! how much between! I cannot reach her she cannot +reach me!" thought poor Ellen. Her eyes had been filling and +dropping tears for some time, but now came the rush of the +pent-up storm, and the floods of grief were kept back no +longer. + +When once fairly excited, Ellen's passions were always +extreme. During the former peaceful and happy part of her +life, the occasions of such excitement had been very rare. Of +late, unhappily, they had occurred much oftener. Many were the +bitter fits of tears she had known within a few weeks. But now +it seemed as if all the scattered causes of sorrow that had +wrought those tears were gathered together, and pressing upon +her at once, and that the burden would crush her to the earth. +To the earth it brought her, literally. She slid from her seat +at first, and, embracing the stone on which she had sat, she +leaned her head there; but presently in her agony quitting her +hold of that, she cast herself down upon the moss, lying at +full length upon the cold ground, which seemed, to her +childish fancy the best friend she had left. But Ellen was +wrought up to the last pitch of grief and passion. Tears +brought no relief. Convulsive weeping only exhausted her. In +the extremity of her distress and despair, and in that lonely +place, out of hearing of every one, she sobbed aloud, and even +screamed, for almost the first time in her life; and these +fits of violence were succeeded by exhaustion, during which +she ceased to shed tears, and lay quite still, drawing only +long, sobbing sighs, now and then. + +How long Ellen had lain there, or how long this would have +gone on before her strength had been quite worn out, no one +can tell. In one of these fits of forced quiet, when she lay +as still as the rocks around her, she heard a voice close by +say, "What is the matter, my child?" + +The silver sweetness of the tone came singularly upon the +tempest in Ellen's mind. She got up hastily, and, brushing +away the tears from her dimmed eyes, she saw a young lady +standing there, and a face, whose sweetness well matched the +voice, looking upon her with grave concern. She stood +motionless and silent. + +"What is the matter, my dear?" + +The tone found Ellen's heart, and brought the water to her +eyes again, though with a difference. She covered her face +with her hands. But gentle hands were placed upon hers, and +drew them away; and the lady, sitting down on Ellen's stone, +took her in her arms; and Ellen hid her face in the bosom of a +better friend than the cold earth had been like to prove her. +But the change overcame her; and the soft whisper, "Don't cry +any more," made it impossible to stop crying. Nothing further +was said for some time; the lady waited till Ellen grew +calmer. When she saw her able to answer, she said, gently + +"What does all this mean, my child? What troubles you? Tell +me, and I think we can find a way to mend matters." + +Ellen answered the tone of voice with a faint smile, but the +words with another gush of tears. + +"You are Ellen Montgomery, aren't you?" + +"Yes, Maam." + +"I thought so. This isn't the first time I have seen you; I +have seen you once before." + +Ellen looked up, surprised. + +"Have you, Maam? I am sure I have never seen you." + +"No, I know that. I saw you when you didn't see me. Where, do +you think?" + +"I can't tell, I am sure," said Ellen, "I can't guess; I +haven't seen you at Aunt Fortune's, and I haven't been +anywhere else." + +"You have forgotten," said the lady. "Did you never hear of a +little girl who went to take a walk once upon a time, and had +an unlucky fall into a brook, and then went to a kind old +lady's house, where she was dried, and put to bed, and went to +sleep?" + +"Oh, yes," said Ellen. "Did you see me there, Maam, and when +I was asleep?" + +"I saw you there when you were asleep; and Mrs. Van Brunt told +me who you were, and where you lived; and when I came here, a +little while ago. I knew you again very soon. And I knew what +the matter was, too, pretty well; but nevertheless, tell me +all about it, Ellen; perhaps I can help you." + +Ellen shook her head dejectedly. "Nobody in this world can +help me," she said. + +"Then there's One in heaven that can," said the lady, +steadily. "Nothing is too bad for him to mend. Have you asked +_His_ help, Ellen?" + +Ellen began to weep again. "Oh, if I could, I would tell you +all about it, Maam," she said; "but there are so many things + I don't know where to begin I don't know when I should +ever get through." + +"So many things that trouble you, Ellen?" + +"Yes, Maam." + +"I am sorry for that, indeed. But never mind, dear, tell me +what they are. Begin with the worst, and if I haven't time to +hear them all now, I'll find time another day. Begin with the +worst." + +But she waited in vain for an answer, and became distressed +herself at Ellen's distress, which was extreme. + +"Don't cry so, my child don't cry so," she said, pressing +her in her arms. "What _is_ the matter? Hardly anything in this +world is so bad it can't be mended. I think I know what +troubles you so it is that your dear mother is away from +you, isn't it?" + +"Oh, no, Maam!" Ellen could scarcely articulate. But, +struggling with herself for a minute or two, she then spoke +again, and more clearly. + +"The worst is, oh! the worst is, that I meant I meant +to be a good child, and I have been worse than ever I was in +my life before." + +Her tears gushed forth. + +"But how, Ellen?" said her surprised friend, after a pause. "I +don't quite understand you. When did you 'mean to be a good +child?' Didn't you always mean so? and what have you been +doing?" + +Ellen made a great effort, and ceased crying; straightened +herself dashed away her tears, as if determined to shed no +more; and presently spoke calmly, though a choking sob every +now and then threatened to interrupt her. + +"I will tell you, Maam. That first day I left Mamma when I +was on board the steamboat, and feeling as badly as I could +feel a kind, kind gentleman I don't know who he was came +to me, and spoke to me, and took care of me the whole day. Oh, +if I could see him again! He talked to me a great deal he +wanted me to be a Christian he wanted me to make up my mind +to begin that day to be one and Maam, I did. I did resolve +with my whole heart, and I thought I should be different from +that time from what I had ever been before. But I think I have +never been so bad in my life as I have been since then. +Instead of feeling right, I have felt wrong all the time, +almost and I can't help it. I have been passionate and +cross, and bad feelings keep coming; and I know it's wrong, +and it makes me miserable. And yet, oh! Maam, I haven't +changed my mind a bit I think just the same as I did that +day; I want to be a Christian more than anything else in the +world, but I am not and what shall I do?" + +Her face sank in her hands again. + +"And this is your great trouble?" said her friend. + +"Yes." + +"Do you remember who said, 'Come unto me, all ye that labour +and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest'?" + +Ellen looked up inquiringly. + +"You are grieved to find yourself so unlike what you would be. +You wish to be a child of the dear Saviour, and to have your +heart filled with his love, and to do what will please him. Do +you? Have you gone to him day by day, and night by night, +and told him so? have you begged him to give you strength to +get the better of your wrong feelings, and asked him to change +you, and make you his child?" + +"At first I did, Maam," said Ellen, in a low voice. + +"Not lately!" + +"No, Maam;" in a lower tone still, and looking down. + +"Then you have neglected your Bible and prayer for some time +past?" + +Ellen hardly uttered, "Yes." + +"Why, my child?" + +"I don't know, Maam," said Ellen, weeping "that is one of +the things that made me think myself so very wicked. I +couldn't like to read my Bible or pray either, though I always +used to before. My Bible lay down quite at the bottom of my +trunk, and I even didn't like to raise my things enough to see +the cover of it. I was so full of bad feelings, I didn't feel +fit to pray or read either." + +"Ah! that is the way with the wisest of us," said her +companion; "how apt we are to shrink most from our Physician +just when we are in most need of him! But, Ellen, dear, that +isn't right. No hand but His can touch that sickness you are +complaining of. Seek it, love seek it. He will hear and help +you, no doubt of it, in every trouble you carry simply and +humbly to his feet; he has _promised_, you know." + +Ellen was weeping very much, but less bitterly than before; +the clouds were breaking, and light beginning to shine +through. + +"Shall we pray together now?" said her companion, after a few +minutes' pause. + +"Oh, if you please, Maam, do!" Ellen answered, through her +tears. + +And they knelt together there on the moss beside the stone, +where Ellen's head rested and her friend's folded hands were +laid. It might have been two children speaking to their +father, for the simplicity of that prayer; difference of age +seemed to be forgotten, and what suited one suited the other. +It was not without difficulty that the speaker carried it +calmly through, for Ellen's sobs went nigh to check her more +than once. When they rose, Ellen silently sought her friend's +arms again, and laying her face on her shoulder and putting +both arms round her neck, she wept still but what different +tears! It was like the gentle rain falling through sunshine, +after the dark cloud and the thunder and the hurricane have +passed by. And they kissed each other before either of them +spoke. + +"You will not forget your Bible and prayer again, Ellen?" + +"Oh, no, Maam." + +"Then I am sure you will find your causes of trouble grow +less. I will not hear the rest of them now. In a day or two I +hope you will be able to give me a very different account from +what you would have done an hour ago; but, besides that, it is +getting late, and it will not do for us to stay too long up +here; you have a good way to go to reach home. Will you come +and see me to-morrow afternoon?" + +"Oh, yes, Maam, indeed I will! if I can; and if you will +tell me where." + +"Instead of turning up this little rocky path, you must keep +straight on in the road that's all: and it's the first house +you come to. It isn't very far from here. Where were you going +on the mountain?" + +"Nowhere, Maam." + +"Have you been any higher up than this?" + +"No, Maam." + +"Then, before we go away, I want to show you something. I'll +take you over the Bridge of the Nose; it isn't but a step or +two more: a little rough, to be sure, but you mustn't mind +that." + +"What is the 'Bridge of the Nose,' Maam?" said Ellen, as they +left her resting-place, and began to toil up the path, which +grew more steep and rocky than ever. + +"You know this mountain is called the Nose. Just here it runs +out to a very thin, sharp edge. We shall come to a place +presently where you turn a very sharp corner to get from one +side of the hill to the other; and my brother named it, +jokingly, the Bridge of the Nose." + +"Why do they give the mountain such a queer name?" said Ellen. + +"I don't know, I'm sure. The people say that from one point of +view this side of it looks very like a man's nose; but I never +could find it out, and have some doubt about the fact. But now +here we are! Just come round this great rock mind how you +step, Ellen now, look there!" + +The rock they had just turned was at their backs, and they +looked towards the west. Both exclaimed at the beauty before +them. The view was not so extended as the one they had left. +On the north and south the broken wavy outline of mountains +closed in the horizon; but far to the west stretched an +opening between the hills, through which the setting sun sent +his long beams, even to their feet. In the distance all was a +golden haze; nearer, on the right and left, the hills were lit +up singularly, and there was a most beautiful mingling of +deep, hazy shadow, and bright, glowing mountain-sides and +ridges. A glory was upon the valley. Far down below, at their +feet, lay a large lake, gleaming in the sunlight; and at the +upper end of it, a village of some size showed like a cluster +of white dots. + +"How beautiful!" said the lady again. "Ellen, dear, He whose +hand raised up those mountains, and has painted them so +gloriously, is the very same One who has said, to you and to +me, 'Ask and it shall be given you.' " + +Ellen looked up; their eyes met: her answer was in that +grateful glance. + +The lady sat down and drew Ellen close to her. + +"Do you see that little white village yonder, down at the far +end of the lake? that is the village of Carra-carra; and that +is Carra-carra lake; that is where I go to church; you cannot +see the little church from here. My father preaches there +every Sunday morning." + +"You must have a long way to go," said Ellen. + +"Yes, a pretty long way, but it's very pleasant, though. I +mount my little gray pony, and he carries me there in quick +time, when I will let him. I never wish the way shorter. I go +in all sorts of weathers, too, Ellen; Sharp and I don't mind +frost and snow." + +"Who is Sharp?" said Ellen. + +"My pony. An odd name, isn't it? It wasn't of my choosing, +Ellen, but he deserves it, if ever pony did. He's a very +cunning little fellow. Where do you go, Ellen? to Thirlwall?" + +"To church, Maam! I don't go anywhere." + +"Doesn't your aunt go to church?" + +"She hasn't since I have been here." + +"What do you do with yourself on Sunday?" + +"Nothing, Maam; I don't know what to do with myself all the +day long. I get tired of being in the house, and I go out of +doors; and then I get tired of being out of doors, and come in +again. I wanted a kitten dreadfully, but Mr. Van Brunt said +aunt Fortune would not let me keep one." + +"Did you want a kitten to help you keep Sunday, Ellen?" said +her friend, smiling. + +"Yes, I did, Maam," said Ellen, smiling again. "I thought it +would be a great deal of company for me. I got very tired of +reading all day long, and I had nothing to read but the Bible; +and you know, Maam, I told you I have been all wrong ever +since I came here, and I didn't like to read that much." + +"My poor child!" said the lady "you have been hardly +bestead, I think. What if you were to come and spend next +Sunday with me? Don't you think I should do instead of a +kitten?" + +"Oh, yes, Maam, I am sure of it," said Ellen, clinging to +her. "Oh, I'll come gladly, if you will let me and if aunt +Fortune will let me; and I hope she will, for she said last +Sunday I was the plague of her life." + +"What did you do to make her say so?" said her friend, +gravely. + +"Only asked her for some books, Maam." + +"Well, my dear, I see I am getting upon another of your +troubles, and we haven't time for that now. By your own +account, you have been much in fault yourself, and I trust you +will find all things mend with your own mending. But now, +there goes the sun! and you and I must follow his example." + +The lake ceased to gleam, and the houses of the village were +less plainly to be seen; still the mountain heads were as +bright as ever. Gradually the shadows crept up their sides, +while the gray of evening settled deeper and deeper upon the +valley. + +"There," said Ellen, "that's just what I was wondering at the +other morning; only then the light shone upon the top of the +mountains first, and walked down, and now it leaves the bottom +first and walks up. I asked Mr. Van Brunt about it, and he +could not tell me. That's another of my troubles; there's +nobody that can tell me anything." + +"Put me in mind of it to-morrow, and I'll try to make you +understand it," said the lady. "But we must not tarry now. I +see you are likely to find me work enough, Ellen." + +"I'll not ask you a question, Maam, if you don't like it," +said Ellen, earnestly. + +"I do like, I do like," said the other. "I spoke laughingly, +for I see you will be apt to ask me a good many. As many as +you please, my dear." + +"Thank you, Maam," said Ellen, as they ran down the hill; +"they keep coming into my head all the while." + +It was easier going down than coming up. They soon arrived at +the place where Ellen had left the road to take the wood path. + +"Here we part," said the lady. "Good night!" + +"Good night, Maam." + +There was a kiss and a squeeze of the hand; but when Ellen +would have turned away, the lady still held her fast. + +"You are an odd little girl," said she. "I gave you liberty to +ask me questions." + +"Yes, Maam," said Ellen, doubtfully. + +"There is a question you have not asked me that I have been +expecting. Do you know who I am?" + +"No, Maam." + +"Don't you want to know?" + +"Yes, Maam, very much," said Ellen, laughing at her friend's +look; "but Mamma told me never to try to find out anything +about other people that they didn't wish me to know, or that +wasn't my business." + +"Well, I think this is your business decidedly. Who are you +going to ask for when you come to see me to-morrow? Will you +ask for 'the young lady that lives in this house?' or will you +give a description of my nose and eyes and height?" + +Ellen laughed. + +"My dear Ellen," said the lady, changing her tone, "do you +know you please me very much? For one person that shows +herself well-bred in this matter, there are a thousand, I +think, that ask impertinent questions. I am very glad you are +an exception to the common rule. But, dear Ellen, I am quite +willing you should know my name it is Alice Humphreys. Now, +kiss me again, and run home; it is quite, quite time; I have +kept you too late. Good night, my dear! Tell your aunt I beg +she will allow you to take tea with me to-morrow." + +They parted; and Ellen hastened homewards, urged by the +rapidly-growing dusk of the evening. She trod the green turf +with a step lighter and quicker than it had been a few hours +before, and she regained her home in much less time than it +had taken her to come from thence to the mountain. Lights were +in the kitchen, and the table set; but though weary and faint, +she was willing to forego her supper rather than meet her aunt +just then, so she stole quietly up to her room. She did not +forget her friend's advice. She had no light; she could not +read; but Ellen did pray. She did carry all her heart- +sickness, her wants, and her woes, to that Friend whose ear is +always open to hear the cry of those who call upon Him in +truth; and then, relieved, refreshed, almost healed, she went +to bed and slept sweetly. + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +Counsel, Cakes, and Captain Parry. + + +Early next morning Ellen awoke with a sense that something +pleasant had happened. Then the joyful reality darted into her +mind, and jumping out of bed, she set about her morning work +with a better heart than she had been able to bring to it for +many a long day. When she had finished, she went to the +window. She had found out how to keep it open now, by means of +a big nail stuck in a hole under the sash. It was very early, +and in the perfect stillness, the soft gurgle of the little +brook came distinctly to her ear. Ellen leaned her arms on the +window-sill, and tasted the morning air; almost wondering at +its sweetness, and at the loveliness of field and sky, and the +bright eastern horizon. For days and days all had looked dark +and sad. + +There were two reasons for the change. In the first place, +Ellen had made up her mind to go straight on in the path of +duty; in the second place, she had found a friend. Her little +heart bounded with delight and swelled with thankfulness at +the thought of Alice Humphreys. She was once more at peace +with herself, and had even some notion of being by-and-by at +peace with her aunt; though a sad twinge came over her +whenever she thought of her mother's letter. + +"But there is only one way for me," she thought; "I'll do as +that dear Miss Humphreys told me it's good and early, and I +shall have a fine time before breakfast yet to myself. And +I'll get up so every morning and have it! that'll be the +very best plan I can hit upon." + +As she thought this, she drew forth her Bible from its place +at the bottom of her trunk; and opening it at hazard, she +began to read the l8th chapter of Matthew. Some of it she did +not quite understand; but she paused with pleasure at the 14th +verse. "That means me," she thought. The 21st and 22d verses +struck her a good deal, but when she came to the last she was +almost startled. + +"There it is again!" she said. "That is exactly what that +gentleman said to me. I thought I was forgiven, but how can I +be for I feel I have not forgiven Aunt Fortune." + +Laying aside her book, Ellen kneeled down; but this one +thought so pressed upon her mind, that she could think of +scarce anything else; and her prayer this morning was an +urgent and repeated petition that she might be enabled "from +her heart" to forgive her Aunt Fortune "all her trespasses." +Poor Ellen! she felt it was very hard work. At the very minute +she was striving to feel at peace with her aunt, one grievance +after another would start up to remembrance, and she knew the +feelings that met them were far enough from the spirit of +forgiveness. In the midst of this she was called down. She +rose with tears in her eyes, and "what shall I do?" in her +heart. Bowing her head once more, she earnestly prayed that if +she could not yet _feel_ right towards her aunt, she might be +kept at least from acting or speaking wrong. Poor Ellen! In +the heart is the spring of action; and she found it so this +morning. + +Her aunt and Mr. Van Brunt were already at the table. Ellen +took her place in silence, for one look at her aunt's face +told her that no "good morning" would be accepted. Miss +Fortune was in a particularly bad humour, owing, among other +things, to Mr. Van Brunt's having refused to eat his breakfast +unless Ellen were called. An unlucky piece of kindness. She +neither spoke to Ellen nor looked at her; Mr. Van Brunt did +what in him lay to make amends. He helped her very carefully +to the cold pork and potatoes, and handed her the well-piled +platter of griddle-cakes. + +"Here's the first buckwheats of the season," said he, "and I +told Miss Fortune I warn't agoing to eat one on 'em if you +didn't come down to enjoy 'em along with us. Take two take +two! you want 'em to keep each other hot." + +Ellen's look and smile thanked him, as, following his advice, +she covered one generous "buckwheat" with another as ample. + +"That's the thing! Now, here's some prime maple. You like 'em, +I guess, don't you?" + +"I don't know, yet I have never seen any," said Ellen. + +"Never seen buckwheats! why, they're most as good as my +mother's splitters. Buckwheat cakes and maple molasses +that's food fit for a king, I think when they're good; and +Miss Fortune's are always first-rate." + +Miss Fortune did not relent at all at this compliment. + +"What makes you so white, this morning?" Mr. Van Brunt +presently went on; "you ain't well, be you?" + +"Yes," said Ellen, doubtfully "I'm well" + +"She's as well as I am, Mr. Van Brunt, if you don't go and put +her up to any notions!" Miss Fortune said, in a kind of choked +voice. + +Mr. Van Brunt hemmed, and said no more to the end of +breakfast-time. + +Ellen rather dreaded what was to come next, for her aunt's +look was ominous. In dead silence the things were put away, +and put up, and in course of washing and drying, when Miss +Fortune suddenly broke forth + +"What did you do with yourself yesterday afternoon?" + +"I was up on the mountain," said Ellen. + +"What mountain?" + +"I believe they call it the Nose." + +"What business had you up there?" + +"I hadn't any business there." + +"What did you go there for?" + +"Nothing." + +"Nothing! you expect me to believe that? you call yourself a +truth-teller, I suppose?" + +"Mamma used to say I was," said poor Ellen, striving to +swallow her feelings. + +"Your mother! I daresay mothers always are blind. I +daresay she took everything you said for gospel!" + +Ellen was silent, from sheer want of words that were pointed +enough to suit her. + +"I wish Morgan could have had the gumption to marry in his own +country; but he must go running after a Scotchwoman! A Yankee +would have brought up his child to be worth something. Give me +Yankees!" + +Ellen set down the cup she was wiping. + +"You don't know anything about my mother," she said. "You +oughtn't to speak so it's not right." + +"Why ain't it right, I should like to know?" said Miss +Fortune; "this is a free country, I guess. Our tongues ain't +tied we're all free here." + +"I wish we were," muttered Ellen; "I know what I'd do." + +"What would you do?" said Miss Fortune. + +Ellen was silent. Her aunt repeated the question in a sharper +tone. + +"I oughtn't to say what I was going to," said Ellen "I'd +rather not." + +"I don't care," said Miss Fortune; "you began, and you shall +finish it. I will hear what it was." + +"I was going to say, if we were all free I would run away." + +"Well, that _is_ a beautiful, well-behaved speech! I am glad to +have heard it. I admire it very much. Now, what were you doing +yesterday up on the Nose? Please to go on wiping. There's a +pile ready for you. What were you doing yesterday afternoon?" + +Ellen hesitated. + +"Were you alone, or with somebody?" + +"I was alone part of the time." + +"And who were you with the rest of the time?" + +"Miss Humphreys." + +"Miss Humphreys! what were you doing with her?" + +"Talking." + +"Did you ever see her before?" + +"No, Maam." + +"Where did you find her?" + +"She found me, up on the hill!" + +"What were you talking about?" + +Ellen was silent. + +"What were you talking about?" repeated Miss Fortune. + +"I had rather not tell." + +"And I had rather you _should_ tell so out with it." + +"I was alone with Miss Humphreys," said Ellen; "and it is no +matter what we were talking about it doesn't concern anybody +but her and me." + +"Yes it does, it concerns me," said her aunt, "and I choose to +know; what were you talking about?" + +Ellen was silent. + +"Will you tell me?" + +"No," said Ellen, low, but resolutely. + +"I vow you're enough to try the patience of Job! Look here," +said Miss Fortune, setting down what she had in her hands "I +_will_ know! I don't care what it was, but you shall tell me, or +I'll find a way to make you. I'll give you such a " + +"Stop! stop!" said Ellen wildly "you must not speak to me +so! Mamma never did, and you have no _right_ to! If Mamma or +Papa were here, you would not _dare_ talk to me so." + +The answer to this was a sharp box on the ear from Miss +Fortune's wet hand. Half stunned, less by the blow than the +tumult of feeling it roused, Ellen stood a moment, and then +throwing down her towel, she ran out of the room, shivering +with passion, and brushing off the soapy water left on her +face as if it had been her aunt's very hand. Violent tears +burst forth as soon as she reached her own room tears at +first of anger and mortification only; but conscience +presently began to whisper, "You are wrong! you are wrong!" +and tears of sorrow mingled with the others. + +"Oh!" said Ellen, "why couldn't I keep still? when I had +resolved so this morning why couldn't I be quiet? But she +ought not to have provoked me so dreadfully I couldn't help +it." "You are wrong," said conscience again, and her tears +flowed faster. And then came back her morning trouble the +duty and the difficulty of forgiving. Forgive her aunt +Fortune! with her whole heart in a passion of displeasure +against her. Alas! Ellen began to feel and acknowledge that +indeed all was wrong. But what to do? There was just one +comfort, the visit to Miss Humphreys in the afternoon. "She +will tell me," thought Ellen; "she will help me. But in the +mean while?" + +Ellen had not much time to think; her aunt called her down and +set her to work. She was very busy till dinner-time, and very +unhappy; but twenty times in the course of the morning did +Ellen pause for a moment, and covering her face with her hands +pray that a heart to forgive might be given her. + +As soon as possible after dinner, she made her escape to her +room that she might prepare for her walk. Conscience was not +quite easy that she was going without the knowledge of her +aunt. She had debated the question with herself, and could not +make up her mind to hazard losing her visit. + +So she dressed herself very carefully. One of her dark merinos +was affectionately put on; her single pair of white stockings; +shoes, ruffle, cape Ellen saw that all was faultlessly neat, +just as her mother used to have it; and the nice blue hood lay +upon the bed ready to be put on the last thing, when she heard +her aunt's voice calling + +"Ellen! come down and do your ironing right away, now! the +irons are hot." + +For one moment Ellen stood still in dismay; then slowly +undressed, dressed again, and went down stairs. + +"Come! you've been an age," said Miss Fortune; "now make +haste; there ain't but a handful; and I want to mop up." + +Ellen took courage again ironed away with right good will; +and as there was really but a handful of things, she had soon +done, even to taking off the ironing blanket and putting up +the irons. In the mean time she had changed her mind as to +stealing off without leave; conscience was too strong for her; +and, though with a beating heart, she told of Miss Humphreys' +desire and her half engagement. + +"You may go where you like I am sure I do not care what you +do with yourself," was Miss Fortune's reply. + +Full of delight at this ungracious permission, Ellen fled up +stairs, and dressing much quicker than before, was soon on her +way. + +But at first she went rather sadly. In spite of all her good +resolves and wishes, everything that day had gone wrong; and +Ellen felt that the root of the evil was in her own heart. +Some tears fell as she walked. Further from her aunt's house, +however, her spirits began to rise; her foot fell lighter on +the greensward. Hope and expectation quickened her steps; and +when at length she passed the little wood-path, it was almost +on a run. Not very far beyond that, her glad eyes saw the +house she was in quest of. + +It was a large white house; not very white either, for its +last dress of paint had grown old long ago. It stood close by +the road, and the trees of the wood seemed to throng round it +on every side. Ellen mounted the few steps that led to the +front door, and knocked; but as she could only just reach the +high knocker, she was not likely to alarm anybody with the +noise she made. After a great many little faint raps, which, +if anybody heard them, might easily have been mistaken for the +attacks of some rat's teeth upon the wainscot, Ellen grew +weary of her fruitless toil, and of standing on tiptoe, and +resolved, though doubtfully, to go round the house and see if +there was any other way of getting in. Turning the far corner, +she saw a long, low out-building or shed, jutting out from the +side of the house. On the further side of this, Ellen found an +elderly woman, standing in front of the shed, which was there +open and paved, and wringing some clothes out of a tub of +water. She was a pleasant woman to look at, very trim and +tidy, and a good-humored eye and smile when she saw Ellen. +Ellen made up to her, and asked for Miss Humphreys. + +"Why, where in the world did you come from?" said the woman. +"I don't receive company at the back of the house." + +"I knocked at the front door till I was tired," said Ellen, +smiling in return. + +"Miss Alice must ha' been asleep. Now, honey, you have come so +far round to find me, will you go a little further and find +Miss Alice? Just go round this corner, and keep straight along +till you come to the glass-door there you'll find her. Stop! + may be she's asleep; I may as well go along with you +myself." + +She wrung the water from her hands and led the way. + +A little space of green grass stretched in front of the shed, +and Ellen found it extended all along that side of the house +like a very narrow lawn; at the edge of it shot up the high +forest-trees nothing between them and the house but the +smooth grass, and a narrow, worn footpath. The woods were now +all brown stems, except here and there a superb hemlock and +some scattered silvery birches. But the grass was still green, +and the last day of the Indian summer hung its soft veil over +all; the foliage of the forest was hardly missed. They passed +another hall door, opposite the one where Ellen had tried her +strength and patience upon the knocker; a little further on +they paused at the glass-door. One step led to it. Ellen's +conductress looked in first through one of the panes, and then +opening the door, motioned her to enter. + +"Here you are, my new acquaintance," said Alice, smiling and +kissing her. "I began to think something was the matter, you +tarried so late. We don't keep fashionable hours in the +country, you know. But I'm very glad to see you. Take off your +things, and lay them on that settee by the door. You see I've +a settee for summer and a sofa for winter; for here I am, in +this room, at all times of the year; and a very pleasant room +I think it don't you?" + +"Yes, indeed I do, Maam," said Ellen, pulling off her last +glove. + +"Ah, but wait till you have taken tea with me half a dozen +times, and then see if you don't say it is pleasant. Nothing +can be so pleasant that is quite new. But now come here and +look out of this window or door, whichever you choose to call +it. Do you see what a beautiful view I have here? The wood was +just as thick all along as it is on the right and left; I felt +half smothered to be so shut in, so I got my brother and +Thomas to take axes and go to work there; and many a large +tree they cut down for me, till you see they opened a way +through the woods, for the view of that beautiful stretch of +country. I should grow melancholy if I had that wall of trees +pressing on my vision all the time; it always comforts me to +look off, far away, to those distant blue hills." + +"Aren't those the hills I was looking at yesterday?" said +Ellen. + +"From up on the mountain? the very same; this is part of the +very same view, and a noble view it is. Every morning, Ellen, +the sun, rising behind those hills, shines in through this +door and lights up my room; and in winter he looks in at that +south window, so I have him all the time. To be sure, if I +want to see him set, I must take a walk for it but that isn't +unpleasant; and you know we cannot have everything at once." + +It was a very beautiful extent of woodland, meadow, and hill, +that was seen picture-fashion through the gap cut in the +forest; the wall of trees on each side serving as a frame to +shut it in, and the descent of the mountain, from almost the +edge of the lawn, being very rapid. The opening had been +skilfully cut; the effect was remarkable, and very fine; the +light on the picture being often quite different from that on +the frame or on the hither side of the frame. + +"Now, Ellen," said Alice, turning from the window, "take a +good look at my room. I want you to know it and feel at home +in it; for whenever you can run away from your aunt's, this is +your home do you understand?" + +A smile was on each face. Ellen felt that she was +understanding it very fast. + +"Here, next the door, you see, is my summer settee; and in +summer it very often walks out of doors to accommodate people +on the grass-plat. I have a great fancy for taking tea out of +doors, Ellen, in warm weather; and if you do not mind a +musquito or two, I shall be always happy to have your company. +That door opens into the hall; look out and see, for I want +you to get the geography of the house. That odd-looking, +lumbering, painted concern is my cabinet of curiosities. I +tried my best to make the carpenter man at Thirlwall +understand what sort of a thing I wanted, and did all but show +him how to make it; but, as the southerners say, 'he hasn't +made it right nohow!' There I keep my dried flowers, my +minerals, and a very odd collection of curious things of all +sorts that I am constantly picking up. I'll show you them some +day, Ellen. Have you a fancy for curiosities?" + +"Yes, Maam, I believe so." + +"Believe so! not more sure than that? Are you a lover of dead +moths, and empty beetle-skins, and butterflies' wings, and dry +tufts of moss, and curious stones, and pieces of ribbon-grass, +and strange birds' nests? These are some of the things I used +to delight in when I was about as old as you." + +"I don't know, Maam," said Ellen. "I never was where I could +get them." + +"Weren't you? Poor child! Then you have been shut up to brick +walls and paving-stones all your life?" + +"Yes, Maam, all my life." + +"But now you have seen a little of the country don't you +think you shall like it better?" + +"Oh, a great deal better!" + +"Ah, that's right. I am sure you will. On that other side, you +see, is my winter sofa. It's a very comfortable resting-place, +I can tell you, Ellen, as I have proved by many a sweet nap; +and its old chintz covers are very pleasant to me, for I +remember them as far back as I remember anything." + +There was a sigh here; but Alice passed on, and opened a door +near the end of the sofa. + +"Look in here, Ellen; this is my bedroom." + +"Oh, how lovely!" Ellen exclaimed. + +The carpet covered only the middle of the floor; the rest was +painted white. The furniture was common but neat as wax. Ample +curtains of white dimity clothed the three windows, and +lightly draped the bed. The toilet-table was covered with +snow-white muslin, and by the toilet-cushion stood, late as it +was, a glass of flowers. Ellen thought it must be a pleasure +to sleep there. + +"This," said Alice, when they came out, "between my door and +the fireplace, is a cupboard. Here be cups and saucers, and so +forth. In that other corner beyond the fireplace you see my +flower-stand. Do you love flowers, Ellen?" + +"I love them dearly, Miss Alice." + +"I have some pretty ones out yet, and shall have one or two in +the winter; but I can't keep a great many here; I haven't room +for them. I have hard work to save these from frost. There's a +beautiful daphne that will be out by-and-by, and make the +whole house sweet. But here, Ellen, on this side, between the +windows, is my greatest treasure my precious books. All +these are mine. Now, my dear, it is time to introduce you to +my most excellent of easy-chairs the best things in the +room, aren't they? Put yourself in that; now do you feel at +home?" + +"Very much indeed, Maam," said Ellen, laughing, as Alice +placed her in the deep easy-chair. + +There were two things in the room that Alice had not +mentioned; and while she mended the fire, Ellen looked at +them. One was the portrait of a gentleman, grave and good- +looking; this had very little of her attention. The other was +the counter-portrait of a lady; a fine, dignified countenance +that had a charm for Ellen. It hung over the fireplace in an +excellent light; and the mild eye, and somewhat of a peculiar +expression about the mouth, bore such likeness to Alice, +though older, that Ellen had no doubt whose it was. + +Alice presently drew a chair close to Ellen's side, and kissed +her. + +"I trust, my child," she said, "that you feel better to-day +than you did yesterday?" + +"Oh, I do, Maam a great deal better," Ellen answered. + +"Then I hope the reason is that you have returned to your +duty, and are resolved not to be a Christian by-and-by, but to +lead a Christian's life now?" + +"I have resolved so, Maam I did resolve so last night and +this morning; but yet I have been doing nothing but wrong all +to-day." + +Alice was silent. Ellen's lips quivered for a moment, and then +she went on + +"Oh, Maam, how I have wanted to see you to-day to tell me +what I _should_ do! I resolved and resolved this morning; and +then, as soon as I got down-stairs, I began to have bad +feelings towards Aunt Fortune, and I have been full of bad +feelings all day; and I couldn't help it." + +"It will not do to say that we cannot help what is wrong, +Ellen. What is the reason that you have bad feelings towards +your aunt?" + +"She don't like me, Maam." + +"But how happens that, Ellen? I am afraid you don't like her." + +"No, Maam, I don't to be sure; how can I?" + +"Why cannot you, Ellen?" + +"Oh, I can't, Maam! I wish I could. But, oh! Maam, I should +have liked her I might have liked her, if she had been kind, +but she never has. Even that first night I came she never +kissed me nor said she was glad to see me." + +"That was failing in kindness, certainly, but is she unkind to +you, Ellen?" + +"Oh, yes, Maam, indeed she is. She talks to me, and talks to +me, in a way that almost drives me out of my wits; and to-day +she even struck me! She has no right to do it," said Ellen, +firing with passion; "she has no _right_ to! and she has no +right to talk as she does about Mamma. She did it to-day, and +she has done it before. I can't bear it! and I can't bear _her!_ +I can't _bear_ her!" + +"Hush, hush," said Alice, drawing the excited child to her +arms, for Ellen had risen from her seat "you must not talk +so, Ellen; you are not feeling right now." + +"No, Maam, I am not," said Ellen, coldly and sadly. She sat a +moment, and then turning to her companion, put both arms round +her neck, and hid her face on her shoulder again; and, without +raising it, she gave her the history of the morning. + +"What has brought about this dreadful state of things?" said +Alice, after a few minutes. "Whose fault is it, Ellen?" + +"I think it is Aunt Fortune's fault," said Ellen, raising her +head; "I don't think it is mine. If she had behaved well to +me, I should have behaved well to her. I meant to, I am sure." + +"Do you mean to say you do not think you have been in fault at +all in the matter?" + +"No, Maam, I do not mean to say that. I have been very much +in fault, very often I know that. I get very angry and +vexed, and sometimes I say nothing, but sometimes I get out of +all patience and say things I ought not. I did so to-day; but +it is so very hard to keep still when I am in such a passion, +and now I have got to feel so towards Aunt Fortune that I +don't like the sight of her; I hate the very look of her +bonnet hanging up on the wall. I know it isn't right; and it +makes me miserable; and I can't help it, for I grow worse and +worse every day and what shall I do?" + +Ellen's tears came faster than her words. + +"Ellen, my child," said Alice, after a while, "There is but +one way. You know what I said to you yesterday?" + +"I know it; but, dear Miss Alice, in my reading this morning I +came to that verse that speaks about not being forgiven if we +do not forgive others; and oh! how it troubles me! for I can't +feel that I forgive Aunt Fortune; I feel vexed whenever the +thought of her comes into my head; and how can I behave right +to her while I feel so?" + +"You are right there, my dear; you cannot, indeed. The heart +must be set right before the life can be." + +"But what shall I do to set it right?" + +"Pray." + +"Dear Miss Alice, I have been praying all this morning that I +might forgive Aunt Fortune, and yet I cannot do it." + +"Pray still, my dear," said Alice, pressing her closer in her +arms "pray still; if you are in earnest, the answer will +come. But there is something else you can do, and must do, +Ellen, besides praying, or praying may be in vain." + +"What do you mean, Miss Alice?" + +"You acknowledge yourself in fault; have you made all the +amends you can? Have you, as soon as you have seen yourself in +the wrong, gone to your aunt Fortune and acknowledged it, and +humbly asked her pardon?" + +Ellen answered "No" in a low voice. + +"Then, my child, your duty is plain before you. The next thing +after doing wrong is to make all the amends in your power; +confess your fault, and ask forgiveness, both of God and man. +Pride struggles against it I see yours does; but, my child, +'God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace unto the humble.' " + +Ellen burst into tears, and cried heartily. + +"Mind your own wrong doings, my child, and you will not be +half so disposed to quarrel with those of other people. But, +Ellen, dear, if you will not humble yourself to this, you must +not count upon an answer to your prayer. 'If thou bring thy +gift to the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother hath +aught against thee' what then? 'Leave there thy gift +before the altar; go first and be reconciled to thy brother, +and then come.' " + +"But it is so hard to forgive!" sobbed Ellen. + +"Hard? Yes, it is hard when our hearts are so. But there is +little love to Christ, and no just sense of his love to us, in +the heart that finds it hard. Pride and selfishness make it +hard; the heart full of love to the dear Saviour cannot lay up +offences against itself." + +"I have said quite enough," said Alice, after a pause; "you +know what you want, my dear Ellen, and what you ought to do. I +shall leave you for a little while to change my dress, for I +have been walking and riding all the morning. Make a good use +of the time while I am gone." + +Ellen did make good use of the time. When Alice returned, she +met her with another face than she had worn all that day, +humbler and quieter; and flinging her arms around her, she +said + +"I will ask Aunt Fortune's forgiveness; I feel I can do it +now." + +"And how about _forgiving_, Ellen?" + +"I think God will help me to forgive her," said Ellen; "I have +asked him. At any rate I will ask her to forgive me. But oh! +Miss Alice, what would have become of me without you!" + +"Don't lean upon me, dear Ellen; remember you have a better +Friend than I always near you; trust in Him; if I have done +you any good, don't forget it was He brought me to you +yesterday afternoon." + +"There's just one thing that troubles me now," said Ellen, +"Mamma's letter. I am thinking of it all the time; I feel as +if I should fly to get it!" + +"We'll see about that. Cannot you ask your aunt for it?" + +"I don't like to." + +"Take care, Ellen; there is some pride there yet." + +"Well, I will try," said Ellen. "but sometimes, I know, she +would not give it to me if I were to ask her. But I'll try, if +I can." + +"Well, now to change the subject at what o'clock did you +dine to-day?" + +"I don't know, Maam at the same time we always do, I +believe." + +"And that is twelve o'clock, isn't it?" + +"Yes, Maam; but I was so full of coming here and other +things? that I couldn't eat." + +"Then I suppose you would have no objection to an early tea?" + +"No, Maam whenever you please," said Ellen? laughing. + +"I shall please it pretty soon. I have had no dinner at all +to-day, Ellen; I have been out and about all the morning, and +had just taken a little nap when you came in. Come this way, +and let me show you some of my house-keeping." + +She led the way across the hall to the room on the opposite +side; a large, well-appointed, and spotlessly neat kitchen. +Ellen could not help exclaiming at its pleasantness. + +"Why, yes I think it is. I have been in many a parlour that +I do not like as well. Beyond this is a lower kitchen, where +Margery does all her rough work; nothing comes up the steps +that lead from that to this but the very nicest and daintiest +of kitchen matters. Margery, is my father gone to Thirlwall?" + +"No, Miss Alice he's at Carra-carra Thomas heard him say +he wouldn't be back early." + +"Well, I shall not wait for him. Margery, if you will put the +kettle on and see to the fire, I'll make some of my cakes for +tea." + +"I'll do it, Miss Alice; it's not good for you to go so long +without eating." + +Alice now rolled up her sleeves above the elbows, and tying a +large white apron before her, set about gathering the +different things she wanted for her work, to Ellen's great +amusement. A white moulding-board was placed upon a table as +white; and round it soon grouped the pail of flour, the plate +of nice yellow butter, the bowl of cream, the sieve, tray, and +sundry etceteras. And then, first sifting some flour into the +tray, Alice began to throw in the other things one after +another, and toss the whole about with a carelessness that +looked as if all would go wrong, but with a confidence that +seemed to say all was going right. Ellen gazed in comical +wonderment. + +"Did you think cakes were made without hands?" said Alice, +laughing at her look. "You saw me wash mine before I began." + +"Oh! I'm not thinking of that," said Ellen; "I am not afraid +of your hands." + +"Did you never see your mother do this?" said Alice, who was +now turning and rolling about the dough upon the board in a +way that seemed to Ellen curious beyond expression. + +"No, never," she said. "Mamma never kept house, and I never +saw anybody do it." + +"Then your aunt does not let you into the mysteries of bread +and butter-making!" + +"Butter-making! Oh," said Ellen, with a sigh, "I have enough +of that!" + +Alice now applied a smooth wooden roller to the cake with such +quickness and skill, that the lump forthwith lay spread upon +the board in a thin even layer, and she next cut it into +little round cakes with the edge of a tumbler. Half the board +was covered with the nice little white things, which Ellen +declared looked good enough to eat already; and she had quite +forgotten all possible causes of vexation, past, present, or +future, when suddenly a large gray cat jumped upon the table, +and coolly walking upon the moulding-board, planted his paw +directly in the middle of one of his mistress's cakes. + +"Take him off oh, Ellen!" cried Alice, "take him off! I +can't touch him." + +But Ellen was a little afraid. + +Alice then tried gently to shove puss off with her elbow; but +he seemed to think that was very good fun, purred, whisked +his great tail over Alice's bare arm, and rubbed his head +against it, having evidently no notion that he was not just +where he ought to be. Alice and Ellen were too much amused to +try any violent method of relief, but Margery happily coming +in, seized puss in both hands and set him on the floor. + +"Just look at the print of his paw in that cake," said Ellen. + +"He has set his mark on it, certainly. I think it is his now, +by the right of possession if not the right of discovery." + +"I think he discovered the cakes too," said Ellen, laughing. + +"Why, yes. He shall have that one baked for his supper." + +"Does he like cakes?" + +"Indeed he does. Captain Parry is very particular and delicate +about his eating." + +"Captain Parry!" said Ellen, "is that his name?" + +"Yes," said Alice, laughing; "I don't wonder you look +astonished, Ellen. I have had that cat five years, and when he +was first given me, by my brother Jack, who was younger then +than he is now, and had been reading Captain Parry's _Voyages_, +gave him that name, and would have him called so. Oh, Jack!" +said Alice, half laughing and half crying. + +Ellen wondered why. But she went to wash her hands, and when +her face was again turned to Ellen, it was unruffled as ever. + +"Margery, my cakes are ready," said she, "and Ellen and I are +ready too." + +"Very well, Miss Alice the kettle is just going to boil; you +shall have tea in a trice. I'll do some eggs for you." + +"Something anything," said Alice; "I feel one cannot live +without eating. Come, Ellen, you and I will go and set the +tea-table." + +Ellen was very happy arranging the cups and saucers and other +things that Alice handed her from the cupboard; and when, a +few minutes after, the tea and the cakes came in, and she and +Alice were cozily seated at supper, poor Ellen hardly knew +herself, in such a pleasant state of things. + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +Difficulty of doing right. + + +"Ellen dear," said Alice as she poured out Ellen's second cup +of tea, "have we run through the list of your troubles?" + +"Oh, no, Miss Alice, indeed we haven't; but we have got +through the worst." + +"Is the next one so bad it would spoil our supper?" + +"No," said Ellen, "it couldn't do that, but it's bad enough, +though; it's about my not going to school. Miss Alice, I +promised myself I would learn so much while Mamma was away, +and surprise her when she came back, but instead of that I am +not learning anything. I don't mean not learning _anything_," +said Ellen, correcting herself; "but I can't do much. When I +found Aunt Fortune wasn't going to send me to school, I +determined I would try to study by myself; and I have tried; +but I can't get along." + +"Well, now, don't lay down your knife and fork and look so +doleful," said Alice, smiling; "this is a matter I can help +you in. What are you studying?" + +"Some things I can manage well enough," said Ellen "the easy +things; but I cannot understand my arithmetic without some one +to explain it to me: and French I can do nothing at all with, +and that is what I wanted to learn most of all; and often I +want to ask questions about my history." + +"Suppose," said Alice, "you go on studying by yourself as much +and as well as you can, and bring your books up to me two or +three times a week; I will hear and explain and answer +questions to your heart's content, unless you should be too +hard for me. What do you say to that?" + +Ellen said nothing to it, but the colour that rushed to her +cheeks the surprised look of delight were answer enough. + +"It will do, then," said Alice; "and I have no doubt we shall +untie the knot of those arithmetical problems very soon. But, +Ellen, my dear, I cannot help you in French, for I do not know +it myself. What will you do about that?" + +"I don't know, Maam; I am sorry." + +"So am I, for your sake. I can help you in Latin, if that +would be any comfort to you." + +"It wouldn't be much comfort to me," said Ellen, laughing; +"Mamma wanted me to learn Latin, but I wanted to learn French +a great deal more; I don't care about Latin except to please +her." + +"Permit me to ask if you know English?" + +"Oh, yes, Maam, I hope so; I knew that a great while ago." + +"Did you? I am very happy to make your acquaintance then; for +the number of young ladies who do know English is, in my +opinion, remarkably small. Are you sure of the fact, Ellen?" + +"Why, yes, Miss Alice." + +"Will you undertake to write me a note of two pages that shall +not have one fault of grammar, nor one word spelt wrong, nor +anything in it that is not good English? You may take for a +subject the history of this afternoon." + +"Yes, Maam, if you wish it. I hope I can write a note that +long without making mistakes." + +Alice smiled. + +"I will not stop to inquire," she said, "whether _that long_ is +Latin or French; but Ellen, my dear, it is not English." + +Ellen blushed a little, though she laughed too. + +"I believe I have got into the way of saying that by hearing +Aunt Fortune and Mr. Van Brunt say it; I don't think I ever +did before I came here." + +"What are you so anxious to learn French for?" + +"Mamma knows it, and I have often heard her talk French with a +great many people; and papa and I always wanted to be able to +talk it too; and Mamma wanted me to learn it; she said there +were a great many French books I ought to read." + +"That last is true, no doubt. Ellen, I will make a bargain +with you, if you will study English with me, I will study +French with you." + +"Dear Miss Alice," said Ellen, caressing her, "I'll do it +without that; I'll study anything you please." + +"Dear Ellen, I believe you would. But I should like to know it +for my own sake; we'll study it together; we shall get along +nicely, I have no doubt; we can learn to read it at least, and +that is the main point." + +"But how shall we know what to call the words?" said Ellen, +doubtfully. + +"That is a grave question," said Alice, smiling. "I am afraid +we should hit upon a style of pronunciation that a Frenchman +would make nothing of. I have it!" she exclaimed, clapping her +hands; "where there's a will there's a way it always happens +so. Ellen, I have an old friend upon the mountain who will +give us exactly what we want, unless I am greatly mistaken. +We'll go and see her; that is the very thing! my old friend +Mrs. Vawse." + +"Mrs. Vawse!" repeated Ellen; "not the grandmother of that +Nancy Vawse?" + +"The very same. Her name is not Vawse the country people +call it so, and I being one of the country people have fallen +into the way of it; but her real name is Vosier. She was born +a Swiss, and brought up in a wealthy French family, as the +personal attendant of a young lady to whom she became +exceedingly attached. This lady finally married an American +gentleman; and so great was Mrs. Vawse's love to her, that she +left country and family to follow her here. In a few years her +mistress died; she married; and since that time she has been +tossed from trouble to trouble a perfect sea of troubles +till now she is left like a wreck upon this mountain top. A +fine wreck she is! I go to see her very often, and next time I +will call for you and we will propose our French plan; nothing +will please her better, I know. By the way, Ellen, are you as +well versed in the other common branches of education as you +are in your mother tongue?" + +"What do you mean, Miss Alice?" + +"Geography, for instance; do you know it well?" + +"Yes, Maam; I believe so; I am sure I have studied it till I +am sick of it." + +"Can you give me the boundaries of Great Thibet or Peru?" + +Ellen hesitated. + +"I had rather not try," she said "I am not sure. I can't +remember those queer countries in Asia and South America, half +so well as Europe and North America." + +"Do you know anything about the surface of the country in +Italy or France the character and condition of the people +what kind of climate they have, and what grows there most +freely?" + +"Why, no, Maam," said Ellen; "nobody ever taught me that." + +"Would you like to go over the atlas again, talking about all +these matters, as well as the mere outlines of the countries +you have studied before?" + +"Oh, yes, dearly!" exclaimed Ellen. + +"Well, I think we may let Margery have the tea-things. But +here is Captain's cake." + +"Oh, may I give him his supper?" said Ellen. + +"Certainly. You must carve it for him; you know I told you he +is very particular. Give him some of the egg, too he likes +that. Now, where is the Captain?" + +Not far off; for scarcely had Alice opened the door and called +him once or twice, when, with a queer little note of answer, +he came hurriedly trotting in. + +"He generally has his supper in the outer kitchen," said Alice + "but I grant him leave to have it here to-night, as a +particular honour to him and you." + +"How handsome he is! and how large!" said Ellen. + +"Yes, he is very handsome; and more than that, he is very +sensible for a cat. Do you see how prettily his paws are +marked? Jack used to say he had white gloves on." + +"And white boots, too," said Ellen. "No, only one leg is +white; pussy's boots aren't mates. Is he good-natured?" + +"Very if you don't meddle with him." + +"I don't call that being good-natured," said Ellen, laughing. + +"Nor I; but truth obliges me to say, the Captain does not +permit anybody to take liberties with him. He is a character, +Captain Parry. Come out on the lawn, Ellen, and we will let +Margery clear away." + +"What a pleasant face Margery has!" said Ellen, as the door +closed behind them; "and what a pleasant way she has of +speaking! I like to hear her; the words come out so clear, and +I don't know how, but not like other people." + +"You have a quick ear, Ellen; you are very right. Margery had +lived too long in England before she came here to lose her +trick of speech afterwards. But Thomas speaks as thick as a +Yankee, and always did." + +"Then Margery is English?" said Ellen. + +"To be sure. She came over with us twelve years ago for the +pure love of my father and mother; and I believe now she looks +upon John and me as her own children. I think she could +scarcely love us more if we were so in truth. Thomas you +haven't seen Thomas yet, have you?" + +"No." + +"He is an excellent good man in his way, and as faithful as +the day is long but he isn't equal to his wife. Perhaps I am +partial; Margery came to America for the love of us, and +Thomas came for the love of Margery there's a difference." + +"But, Miss Alice!" + +"What, Miss Ellen?" + +"You said Margery came over _with you?_" + +"Yes; is that what makes you look so astonished?" + +"But then you are English, too?" + +"Well, what of that? you won't love me the less, will you?" + +"Oh, no," said Ellen; "my own mother came from Scotland, Aunt +Fortune says." + +"I am English born, Ellen, but you may count me half American, +if you like, for I have spent rather more than half my life +here. Come this way, Ellen, and I'll show you my garden. It is +some distance off, but as near as a spot could be found fit +for it." + +They quitted the house by a little steep path leading down the +mountain, which in two or three minutes brought them to a +clear bit of ground. It was not large, but lying very prettily +among the trees, with an open view to the east and south-east. +On the extreme edge, and at the lower end of it, was fixed a +rude bench, well sheltered by the towering forest trees. Here +Alice and Ellen sat down. + +It was near sunset; the air cool and sweet; the evening light +upon field and sky. + +"How fair it is!" said Alice, musingly "how fair and lovely! +Look at those long shadows of the mountains, Ellen; and how +bright the light is on the far hills! It won't be so long. A +little while more, and our Indian summer will be over and +then the clouds, the frost, and the wind, and the snow. Well +let them come." + +"I wish they wouldn't, I am sure," said Ellen. "I am sorry +enough they are coming." + +"Why? all seasons have their pleasures. I am not sorry at all; +I like the cold very much." + +"I guess you wouldn't, Miss Alice, if you had to wash every +morning where I do?" + +"Why, where is that?" + +"Down at the spout." + +"At the _spout_ what is that, pray?" + +"The spout of water, Maam, just down a little way from the +kitchen door. The water comes in a little, long, very long, +trough from a spring at the back of the pig-field; and at the +end of the trough, where it pours out, is the spout." + +"Have you no conveniences for washing in your room?" + +"Not a sign of such a thing, Maam. I have washed at the spout +ever since I have been here," said Ellen, laughing in spite of +her vexation. + +"And do the pigs share the water with you?" + +"The pigs! Oh, no, Maam; the trough is raised up from the +ground on little heaps of stones; they can't get at the water, +unless they drink at the spring, and I don't think they do +that, so many big stones stand around it." + +"Well, Ellen, I must say that is rather uncomfortable, even +without any danger of four-footed society." + +"It isn't so bad just now," said Ellen, "in this warm weather; +but in that cold time we had a week or two back do you +remember, Miss Alice? just before the Indian summer began? +oh, how disagreeable it was! Early in the morning, you know; +the sun scarcely up, and the cold wind blowing my hair and my +clothes all about; and then that board before the spout that I +have to stand on, is always kept wet by the spattering of the +water, and it's muddy besides, and very slippery there's a +kind of green stuff comes upon it; and I can't stoop down for +fear of muddying myself; I have to tuck my clothes round me +and bend over as well as I can, and fetch up a little water to +my face in the hollow of my hand, and of course I have to do +that a great many times before I get enough. I can't help +laughing," said Ellen, "but it isn't a laughing matter, for +all that." + +"So you wash your face in your hands, and have no pitcher but +a long wooden trough? Poor child! I am sorry for you; I think +you must have some other way of managing before the snow +comes." + +"The water is bitter cold already," said Ellen; "it's the +coldest water I ever saw. Mamma gave me a nice dressing-box +before I came away, but I found very soon this was a queer +place for a dressing-box to come to. Why, Miss Alice, if I +take out my brush or comb, I haven't any table to lay them on +but one that's too high, and my poor dressing-box has to stay +on the floor. And I haven't a sign of a bureau all my things +are tumbling about in my trunk." + +"I think if I were in your place I would not permit that, at +any rate," said Alice; "if my things were confined to my +truck, I would have them keep good order there, at least." + +"Well, so they do," said Ellen "pretty good order; I didn't +mean 'tumbling about' exactly." + +"Always try to say what you mean _exactly_. + +"But now, Ellen, love, do you know I must send you away? Do +you see, the sunlight has quitted those distant hills, and it +will be quite gone soon. You must hasten home." + +Ellen made no answer. Alice had taken her on her lap again, +and she was nestling there with her friend's arms wrapped +around her. Both were quite still for a minute. + +"Next week, if nothing happens, we will begin to be busy with +our books. You shall come to me Tuesday and Friday; and all +the other days you must study as hard as you can at home; for +I am very particular, I forewarn you." + +"But suppose Aunt Fortune should not let me come?" said Ellen, +without stirring. + +"Oh, she will. You need not speak about it; I'll come down and +ask her myself, and nobody ever refuses me anything." + +"I shouldn't think they would," said Ellen. + +"Then, don't you set the first example," said Alice, +laughingly. "I ask you to be cheerful and happy, and grow +wiser and better every day." + +"Dear Miss Alice, how can I promise that?" + +"Dear Ellen, it is very easy. There is One who has promised to +hear and answer you when you cry to him; he will make you in +his own likeness again; and to know and love him and not be +happy is impossible. That blessed Saviour!" said Alice "oh, +what should you and I do without him, Ellen? 'as rivers of +waters in a dry place; as the shadow of a great rock in a +weary land;' how beautiful how true! how often I think of +that!" + +Ellen was silent, though entering into the feeling of the +words. + +"Remember Him, dear Ellen; remember your best Friend. Learn +more of Christ, our dear Saviour, and you can't help but be +happy. Never fancy you are helpless and friendless while you +have him to go to. Whenever you feel wearied and sorry, flee +to the shadow of that great rock will you? and do you +understand me?" + +"Yes, Maam yes, Maam," said Ellen, as she lifted her lips +to kiss her friend. Alice heartily returned the kiss, and +pressing Ellen in her arms, said + +"Now Ellen, dear, you _must go;_ I dare not keep you any longer. +It will be too late now, I fear, before you reach home." + +Quick they mounted the little path again, and soon were at the +house; and Ellen was putting on her things. + +"Next Tuesday remember, but before that! Sunday you are to +spend Sunday with me; come bright and early." + +"How early?" + +"Oh, as early as you please before breakfast and our +Sunday morning breakfasts aren't late, Ellen; we have to set +off betimes to go to church." + +Kisses and good-byes; and then Ellen was running down the road +at a great rate; for twilight was beginning to gather, and she +had a good way to go. + +She ran till out of breath; then walked awhile to gather +breath; then ran again. Running down hill is a pretty quick +way of travelling; so before very long she saw her aunt's +house at a distance. She walked now. She had come all the way +in good spirits, though with a sense upon her mind of +something disagreeable to come; when she saw the house, this +disagreeable something swallowed up all her thoughts, and she +walked leisurely on, pondering what she had to do, and what +she was like to meet in the doing of it. + +"If Aunt Fortune should be in a bad humour and say something +to vex me but I'll not be vexed. But it will be very hard to +help it; but I _will not_ be vexed; I have done wrong, and +I'll tell her so, and ask her to forgive me; it will be hard + but I'll do it I'll say what I ought to say, and then, +however she takes it, I shall have the comfort of knowing I +have done right." "But," said conscience, "you must not say it +stiffly and proudly; you must say it humbly and as if you +really felt and meant it." "I will," said Ellen. + +She paused in the shed, and looked through the window, to see +what was the promise of things within. Not good; her aunt's +step sounded heavy and ominous; Ellen guessed she was not in a +pleasant state of mind. She opened the door no doubt of it +the whole air of Miss Fortune's figure, to the very +handkerchief that was tied round her head, spoke displeasure. + +"She isn't in a good mood," said Ellen, as she went upstairs +to leave her bonnet and cape there; "I never knew her to be +good-humoured when she had that handkerchief on." + +She returned to the kitchen immediately. Her aunt was busied +in washing and wiping the dishes. + +"I have come home rather late," said Ellen, pleasantly; +"shall I help you, Aunt Fortune?" + +Her aunt cast a look at her. + +"Yes, you may help me. Go and put on a pair of white gloves, +and a silk apron, and then you'll be ready." + +Ellen looked down at herself. "Oh, my merino! I forgot about +that. I'll go and change it." + +Miss Fortune said nothing, and Ellen went. + +When she came back, the things were all wiped, and as she was +about to put some of them away, her aunt took them out of her +hands, bidding her "go and sit down!" + +Ellen obeyed, and was mute; while Miss Fortune dashed round +with a display of energy there seemed to be no particular call +for, and speedily had everything in its place, and all +straight and square about the kitchen. When she was, as a last +thing, brushing the crumbs from the floor into the fire, she +broke the silence again. The old grandmother sat in the +chimney corner, but she seldom was very talkative in the +presence of her stern daughter. + +"What did you come home for, to-night? Why didn't you stay at +Mr. Humphreys'?" + +"Miss Alice didn't ask me." + +"That means, I suppose, that you would if she had?" + +"I don't know, Maam; Miss Alice wouldn't have asked me to do +anything that wasn't right." + +"Oh, no! of course not! Miss Alice is a piece of +perfection; everybody says so; and I suppose you'd sing the +same song who haven't seen her three times." + +"Indeed I would," said Ellen; "I could have told that in one +seeing. I'd do anything in the world for Miss Alice." + +"Ay I daresay that's the way of it. You can show not one +bit of goodness or pleasantness to the person that does the +most for you, and has all the care of you but the first +stranger that comes along, you can be all honey to them, and +make yourself out too good for common folks, and go and tell +great tales how you are used at home, I suppose. I am sick of +it!" said Miss Fortune, setting up the hand-irons and throwing +the tongs and shovel into the corner in a way that made the +iron ring again. "One might as good be a step-mother at once, +and done with it! Come, mother, it's time for you to go to +bed." + +The old lady rose with the meekness of habitual submission, +and went up-stairs with her daughter. Ellen had time to +bethink herself while they were gone, and resolved to lose no +time when her aunt came back in doing what she had to do. She +would fain have persuaded herself to put it off. "It is late," +she said to herself; "it isn't a good time. It will be better +to go to bed now, and ask Aunt Fortune's pardon to-morrow." +But conscience said, "_First_ be reconciled to thy brother." + +Miss Fortune came down stairs presently. But before Ellen +could get any words out, her aunt prevented her. + +"Come, light your candle and be off I want you out of the +way; I can't do anything with half a dozen people about." + +Ellen rose. "I want to say something to you first, Aunt +Fortune." + +"Say it, and be quick; I haven't time to stand talking." + +"Aunt Fortune," said Ellen, stumbling over her words "I want +to tell you that I know I was wrong this morning, and I am +sorry, and I hope you'll forgive me." + +A kind of indignant laugh escaped from Miss Fortune's lips. + +"It's easy talking; I'd rather have acting. I'd rather see +people mend their ways than stand and make speeches about +them. Being sorry don't help the matter much." + +"But I will try not to do so any more," said Ellen. + +"When I see you don't, I shall begin to think there is +something in it. Actions speak louder than words. I don't +believe in this jumping into goodness all at once." + +"Well, I will try not to, at any rate," said Ellen, sighing. + +"I shall be very glad to see it. What has brought you into +this sudden fit of dutifulness and fine talking?" + +"Miss Alice told me I ought to ask your pardon for what I had +done wrong," said Ellen, scarce able to keep from crying; "and +I know I did wrong this morning, and I did wrong the other day +about the letter; and I am sorry, whether you believe it or +no." + +"Miss Alice told you, did she? So all this is to please Miss +Alice. I suppose you were afraid your friend Miss Alice would +hear of some of your goings on, and thought you had better +make up with me. Is that it?" + +Ellen answered, "No, Maam," in a low tone, but had no voice +to say more. + +"I wish Miss Alice would look after her own affairs, and let +other people's houses alone. That's always the way with your +pieces of perfection they're eternally finding out something +that isn't as it ought to be among their neighbours. I think +people that don't set up for being quite such great things, +get along quite as well in the world." + +Ellen was strongly tempted to reply, but kept her lips shut. + +"I'll tell you what," said Miss Fortune "if you want me to +believe that all this talk means something, I'll tell you what +you shall do you shall just tell Mr. Van Brunt to-morrow +about it all, and how ugly you have been these two days, and +let him know you were wrong and I was right. I believe he +thinks you cannot do anything wrong, and I should like him to +know it for once." + +Ellen struggled hard with herself before she could speak; Miss +Fortune's lips began to wear a scornful smile. + +"I'll tell him!" said Ellen, at length; "I'll tell him I was +wrong, if you wish me to." + +"I _do_ wish it. I like people's eyes to be opened. It'll do him +good, I guess, and you too. Now, have you anything more to +say?" + +Ellen hesitated; the colour came and went; she knew it +wasn't a good time, but how could she wait? + +"Aunt Fortune," she said, "you know I told you I behaved very +ill about that letter won't you forgive me?" + +"Forgive you? yes, child; I don't care anything about it." + +"Then you will be so good as to let me have my letter again?" +said Ellen, timidly. + +"Oh, I can't be bothered to look for it now; I'll see about it +some other time; take your candle and go to bed now, if you've +nothing more to say." + +Ellen took her candle and went. Some tears were wrung from her +by hurt feeling and disappointment; but she had the smile of +conscience, and, as she believed, of Him whose witness +conscience is. She remembered that "great rock in a weary +land," and she went to sleep in the shadow of it. + +The next day was Saturday. Ellen was up early; and after +carefully performing her toilet duties, she had a nice long +hour before it was time to go down stairs. The use she made of +this hour had fitted her to do cheerfully and well her morning +work; and Ellen would have sat down to breakfast in excellent +spirits if it had not been for her promised disclosure to Mr. +Van Brunt. It vexed her a little. "I told Aunt Fortune that +was all right; but why I should be obliged to tell Mr. Van +Brunt, I don't know. But if it convinces aunt Fortune that I +am in earnest, and meant what I say then I had better." + +Mr. Van Brunt looked uncommonly grave, she thought; her aunt, +uncommonly satisfied. Ellen had more than half a guess at the +reason of both; but make up her mind to speak she could not, +during all breakfast time. She ate, without knowing what she +was eating. + +Mr. Van Brunt at length, having finished his meal, without +saying a syllable, arose, and was about to go forth, when Miss +Fortune stopped him. "Wait a minute, Mr. Van Brunt," she said; +"Ellen has something to say to you. Go ahead, Ellen." + +Ellen _felt_ rather than saw the smile with which these words +were spoken. She crimsoned and hesitated. + +"Ellen and I had some trouble yesterday," said Miss Fortune; +"and she wants to tell you about it." + +Mr. Van Brunt stood gravely waiting. + +Ellen raised her eyes, which were full, to his face. "Mr. Van +Brunt," she said, "Aunt Fortune wants me to tell you what I +told her last night that I knew I behaved as I ought not to +her yesterday, and the day before, and other times." + +"And what made you do that?" said Mr. Van Brunt. + +"Tell him," said Miss Fortune, colouring, "that you were in +the wrong, and I was in the right then he'll believe it, I +suppose." + +"I was wrong," said Ellen. + +"And I was right," said Miss Fortune. + +Ellen was silent. Mr. Van Brunt looked from one to the other. + +"Speak," said Miss Fortune; "tell him the whole, if you mean +what you say." + +"I can't," said Ellen. + +"Why, you said you were wrong," said Miss Fortune; "that's +only half of the business; if you were wrong, I was right; why +don't you say so, and not make such a shilly-shally piece of +work of it?" + +"I said I was wrong," said Ellen "and so I was; but I never +said you were right, Aunt Fortune, and I don't think so." + +These words, though moderately spoken, were enough to put Miss +Fortune in a rage. + +"What did I do that was wrong?" she said; "come, I should like +to know. What was it, Ellen? Out with it; say everything you +can think of; stop and hear it, Mr. Van Brunt; come, Ellen: +let's hear the whole!" + +"Thank you, Maam, I've heerd quite enough," said that +gentleman, as he went out and closed the door. + +"And I have said too much," said Ellen. "Pray forgive me, Aunt +Fortune. I shouldn't have said that if you hadn't pressed me +so; I forgot myself a moment. I am sorry I said that." + +"Forgot yourself!" said Miss Fortune; "I wish you'd forget +yourself out of my house. Please to forget the place where I +am for to-day, anyhow; I've got enough of you for one while. +You had better go to Miss Alice and get a new lesson, and tell +her you are coming on finely." + +Gladly would Ellen, indeed, have gone to Miss Alice, but as +the next day was Sunday, she thought it best to wait. She went +sorrowfully to her own room. "Why couldn't I be quiet?" said +Ellen. "If I had only held my tongue that unfortunate minute! +what possessed me to say that?" + +Strong passion strong pride both long unbroken; and Ellen +had yet to learn that many a prayer and many a tear, much +watchfulness, much help from on high, must be hers before she +could be thoroughly dispossessed of these evil spirits. But +she knew her sickness; she had applied to the Physician; she +was in a fair way to be well. + +One thought in her solitary room that day drew streams of +tears down Ellen's cheeks. "My letter! my letter! what shall +I do to get you?" she said to herself. "It serves me right; I +oughtn't to have got in a passion; oh! I have got a lesson +this time!" + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +Loses care on the cat's back. + + +The Sunday with Alice met all Ellen's hopes. She wrote a very +long letter to her mother, giving the full history of the day. +How pleasantly they had ridden to church on the pretty gray +pony she half the way and Alice the other half, talking to +each other all the while; for Mr. Humphreys had ridden on +before. How lovely the road was, "winding about round the +mountain, up and down," and with such a wide fair view, and +"part of the time close along by the edge of the water." This +had been Ellen's first ride on horseback. Then the letter +described the little Carra-carra church Mr. Humphreys' +excellent sermon, "every word of which she could understand;" +Alice's Sunday-school, in which she was sole teacher; and how +Ellen had four little ones put under _her_ care; and told how +while Mr. Humphreys went on to hold a second service at a +village some six miles off, his daughter ministered to two +infirm old women at Carra-carra reading and explaining the +Bible to the one and to the other, who was blind, repeating +the whole substance of her father's sermon. "Miss Alice told +me that nobody could enjoy a sermon better than that old +woman, but she cannot go out, and every Sunday Miss Alice goes +and preaches to her, she says." How Ellen went home in the +boat with Thomas and Margery, and spent the rest of the day +and the night also at the parsonage; and how polite and kind +Mr. Humphreys had been. "He's a very grave-looking man, +indeed," said the letter, "and not a bit like Miss Alice; he +is a great deal older than I expected." + +This letter was much the longest Ellen had ever written in her +life; but she had set her heart on having her mother's +sympathy in her new pleasures, though not to be had but after +the lapse of many weeks, and beyond a sad interval of land and +sea. Still she must have it; and her little fingers travelled +busily over the paper hour after hour, as she found time, till +the long epistle was finished. She was hard at work at it +Tuesday afternoon when her aunt called her down; and obeying +the call, to her great surprise and delight she found Alice +seated in the chimney-corner and chatting away with her old +grandmother, who looked remarkably pleased. Miss Fortune was +bustling round, as usual, looking at nobody, though putting in +her word now and then. + +"Come, Ellen," said Alice, "get your bonnet; I am going up the +mountain to see Mrs. Vawse, and your aunt has given leave for +you to go with me. Wrap yourself up well, for it is not warm." + +Without waiting for a word of answer, Ellen joyfully ran off. + +"You have chosen rather an ugly day for your walk, Miss +Alice." + +"Can't expect pretty days in December, Miss Fortune. I am only +too happy it doesn't storm; it will by to-morrow, I think. But +I have learned not to mind weathers." + +"Yes, I know you have," said Miss Fortune. "You'll stop up on +the mountain till supper-time, I guess won't you?" + +"Oh, yes; I shall want something to fortify me before coming +home after such a long tramp. You see I have brought a basket +along. I thought it safest to take a loaf of bread with me, +for no one can tell what may be in Mrs. Vawse's cupboard, and +to lose our supper is not a thing to be thought of." + +"Well, have you looked out for butter, too? for you'll find +none where you're going. I don't know how the old lady lives +up there, but it's without butter, I reckon." + +"I have taken care of that, too, thank you, Miss Fortune. You +see I'm a far-sighted creature." + +"Ellen," said her aunt, as Ellen now, cloaked and hooded, came +in, "go into the buttery and fetch out one of them pumpkin +pies to put in Miss Alice's basket." + +"Thank you, Miss Fortune," said Alice, smiling; "I shall tell +Mrs. Vawse who it comes from. Now, my dear, let's be off; we +have a long walk before us." + +Ellen was quite ready to be off. But no sooner had she opened +the outer shed door than her voice was heard in astonishment. + +"A cat! What cat is this? Miss Alice! look here! here's +the Captain I do believe." + +"Here is the Captain, indeed," said Alice. "Oh, pussy, pussy, +what have you come for?" + +Pussy walked up to his mistress, and stroking himself and his +great tail against her dress, seemed to say that he had come +for her sake, and that it made no difference to him where she +was going. + +"He was sitting as gravely as possible," said Ellen, "on the +stone just outside the door, waiting for the door to be +opened. How could he have come here?" + +"Why, he has followed me," said Alice; "he often does; but I +came quick, and I thought I had left him at home to-day. This +is too long an expedition for him. Kitty, I wish you had +stayed at home." + +Kitty did not think so; he was arching his neck and purring in +acknowledgment of Alice's soft touch. + +"Can't you send him back?" said Ellen. + +"No, my dear; he is the most sensible of cats, no doubt, but +he could by no means understand such an order. No, we must let +him trot on after us, and when he gets tired I'll carry him; +it won't be the first time, by a good many." + +They set off with a quick pace, which the weather forbade them +to slacken. It was somewhat as Miss Fortune had said, an ugly +afternoon. The clouds hung cold and gray, and the air had a +raw chill feeling, that betokened a coming snow. The wind blew +strong, too, and seemed to carry the chillness through all +manner of wrappers. Alice and Ellen, however, did not much +care for it; they walked and ran by turns, only stopping once +in a while, when poor Captain's uneasy cry warned them they +had left him too far behind. Still he would not submit to be +carried, but jumped down whenever Alice attempted it, and +trotted on most perseveringly. As they neared the foot of the +mountain, they were somewhat sheltered from the wind, and +could afford to walk more slowly. + +"How is it between you and your aunt Fortune now?" said Alice. + +"Oh, we don't get on well at all, Miss Alice, and I don't know +exactly what to do. You know I said I would ask her pardon. +Well, I did, the same night after I got home, but it was very +disagreeable. She didn't seem to believe I was in earnest, and +wanted me to tell Mr. Van Brunt that I had been wrong. I +thought that was rather hard; but at any rate I said I would; +and next morning I did tell him so; and I believe all would +have done well if I could only have been quiet; but Aunt +Fortune said something that vexed me, and almost before I knew +it I said something that vexed her dreadfully. It was nothing +very bad, Miss Alice, though I ought not to have said it, and +I was sorry two minutes after; but I just got provoked, and +what shall I do? for it is so hard to prevent it." + +"The only thing I know," said Alice, with a slight smile, "is +to be full of that charity which among other lovely ways of +showing itself, has this that it is 'not easily provoked.' " + +"I am easily provoked," said Ellen. + +"Then you know one thing, at any rate, that is to be watched +and prayed and guarded against; it is no little matter to be +acquainted with one's own weak points." + +"I tried so hard to keep quiet that morning," said Ellen; "and +if I only could have let that unlucky speech alone but +somehow I forgot myself, and I just told her what I thought." + +"Which it is very often best not to do." + +"I do believe," said Ellen, "Aunt Fortune would like to have +Mr. Van Brunt not like me." + +"Well," said Alice, "what then?" + +"Nothing, I suppose, Maam." + +"I hope you are not going to lay it up against her?" + +"No, Maam, I hope not." + +"Take care, dear Ellen don't take up the trade of suspecting +evil; you could not take up a worse; and even when it is +forced upon you, see as little of it as you can, and forget as +soon as you can what you see. Your aunt, it may be, is not a +very happy person, and no one can tell but those that are +unhappy how hard it is not to be unamiable too. Return good +for evil as fast as you can, and you will soon either have +nothing to complain of or be very well able to bear it." + +They now began to go up the mountain, and the path became in +places steep and rugged enough. "There is an easier way on the +other side," said Alice, "but this is the nearest for us." +Captain Parry now showed signs of being decidedly weary, and +permitted Alice to take him up. But he presently mounted from +her arms to her shoulder, and to Ellen's great amusement, kept +his place there, passing from one shoulder to the other, and +every now and then sticking his nose up into her bonnet as if +to kiss her. + +"What _does_ he do that for?" said Ellen. + +"Because he loves me, and is pleased," said Alice. "Put your +ear close, Ellen, and hear the quiet way he is purring to +himself do you hear? That's his way; he very seldom purrs +aloud." + +"He's a very funny cat," said Ellen laughing. + +"Cat!" said Alice; "there isn't such a cat as this to be seen. +He's a cat to be respected, my old Captain Parry. He's not to +be laughed at, Ellen, I can tell you." + +The travellers went on with good will; but the path was so +steep, and the way so long that when about half-way up the +mountain they were fain to follow the example of their four- +footed companion, and rest themselves. They sat down on the +ground. They had warmed themselves with walking, but the +weather was as chill and disagreeable and gusty as ever; every +now and then the wind came sweeping by, catching up the dried +leaves at their feet, and whirling and scattering them off to +a distance winter's warning voice. + +"I never was in the country before when the leaves were off +the trees," said Ellen. "It isn't so pretty, Miss Alice; do +you think so?" + +"So pretty! No, I suppose not, if we were to have it all the +while; but I like the change very much." + +"Do you like to see the leaves off the trees?" + +"Yes, in the time of it. There's beauty in the leafless trees +that you cannot see in summer. Just look, Ellen no, I cannot +find you a nice specimen here, they grow too thick; but where +they have room, the way the branches spread and ramify, or +branch out again, is most beautiful. There's first the trunk, +then the large branches, then those divide into smaller ones, +and those part and part again into smaller and smaller twigs, +till you are canopied, as it were, with a network of fine +stems. And when the snow falls gently on them oh, Ellen, +winter has its own beauties. I love it all; the cold, and the +wind, and the snow, and the bare forests, and our little river +of ice. What pleasant sleigh-rides to church I have had upon +that river! And then the evergreens, look at them; you don't +know in summer how much they are worth. Wait till you see the +hemlock branches bending with a weight of snow, and then, if +you don't say the winter is beautiful, I'll give you up as a +young lady of bad taste." + +"I dare say I shall," said Ellen; "I am sure I shall like what +you like. But, Miss Alice, what makes the leaves fall when the +cold weather comes?" + +"A very pretty question, Ellen, and one that can't be answered +in a breath." + +"I asked Aunt Fortune the other day," said Ellen, laughing +very heartily, "and she told me to hush up and not be a fool; +and I told her I really wanted to know, and she said she +wouldn't make herself a simpleton if she was in my place; so I +thought I might as well be quiet." + +"By the time the cold weather comes, Ellen, the leaves have +done their work, and are no more needed. Do you know what work +they have to do? do you know what is the use of leaves?" + +"Why, for prettiness, I suppose," said Ellen, "and to give +shade; I don't know anything else." + +"Shade is one of their uses, no doubt, and prettiness too. He +who made the trees, made them 'pleasant to the eyes,' as well +as 'good for food.' So we have an infinite variety of leaves; +one shape would have done the work just as well for every kind +of tree, but then we should have lost a great deal of +pleasure. But, Ellen, the tree could not live without leaves. +In the spring, the thin sap which the roots suck up from the +ground is drawn into the leaves; there, by the help of the sun +and air, it is thickened and prepared in a way you cannot +understand, and goes back to supply the wood with the various +matters necessary for its growth and hardness. After this has +gone on some time, the little vessels of the leaves become +clogged and stopped up with earthy and other matter; they +cease to do their work any longer; the hot sun dries them up +more and more, and by the time the frost comes they are as +good as dead. That finishes them, and they drop off from the +branch that needs them no more. Do you understand all this?" + +"Yes, Maam, very well," said Ellen; "and it's exactly what I +wanted to know, and very curious. So the trees couldn't live +without leaves?" + +"No more than you could without a heart and lungs." + +"I am very glad to know that," said Ellen. "Then how is it +with the evergreens, Miss Alice? Why don't their leaves die +and drop off too?" + +"They do; look how the ground is carpeted under that pine- +tree." + +"But they stay green all winter, don't they?" + +"Yes; their leaves are fitted to resist frost; I don't know +what the people in cold countries would do else. They have the +fate of all other leaves, however; they live awhile, do their +work, and then die; not all at once, though; there is always a +supply left on the tree. Are we rested enough to begin again?" + +"I am," said Ellen; "I don't know about the Captain. Poor +fellow! he's fast asleep. I declare it's too bad to wake you +up, pussy. Haven't we had a pleasant little rest, Miss Alice? +I have learnt something while we have been sitting here." + +"_That_ is pleasant, Ellen," said Alice, as they began their +upward march; "I would I might be all the while learning +something." + +"But you have been teaching, Miss Alice, and that's as good. +Mamma used to say, 'It is more blessed to give than to +receive.' " + +"Thank you, Ellen," said Alice, smiling; "that ought to +satisfy me, certainly." + +They bent themselves against the steep hill again, and pressed +on. As they rose higher, they felt it grow more cold and +bleak; the woods gave them less shelter, and the wind swept +round the mountain head and over them with great force, making +their way quite difficult. + +"Courage, Ellen!" said Alice, as they struggled on; "we shall +soon be there." + +"I wonder," said the panting Ellen, as, making an effort, she +came up alongside of Alice "I wonder why Mrs. Vawse will +live in such a disagreeable place." + +"It is not disagreeable to her, Ellen; though I must say I +should not like to have _too_ much of this wind." + +"But does she really like to live up here better than down +below, where it is warmer? and all alone, too?" + +"Yes, she does. Ask her why, Ellen, and see what she will tell +you. She likes it so much better, that this little cottage was +built on purpose for her, near ten years ago, by a good old +friend of hers, a connection of the lady whom she followed to +this country." + +"Well," said Ellen, "she must have a queer taste that is all +I can say." + +They were now within a few easy steps of the house, which did +not look so uncomfortable when they came close to it. It was +small and low, of only one story, though it is true the roof +ran up very steep to a high and sharp gable. It was perched so +snugly, in a niche of the hill, that the little yard was +completely sheltered with a high wall of rock. The house +itself stood out more boldly, and caught pretty well near all +the winds that blew; but so, Alice informed Ellen, the inmate +liked to have it. + +"And that roof," said Alice, "she begged Mr. Marshman when +the cottage was building, that the roof might be high and +pointed; she said her eyes were tired with the low roofs of +this country, and if he would have it made so it would be a +great relief to them." + +The odd roof Ellen thought was pretty. But they now reached +the door, protected with a deep porch. Alice entered, and +knocked at the other door. They were bade to come in. A woman +was there stepping briskly back and forth before a large +spinning-wheel. She half turned her head to see who the comers +were, then stopped her wheel instantly, and came to meet them +with open arms. + +"Miss Alice! Dear Miss Alice, how glad I am to see you!" + +"And I you, dear Mrs. Vawse," said Alice, kissing her. "Here's +another friend you must welcome for my sake little Ellen +Montgomery." + +"I am very glad to see Miss Ellen," said the old woman, +kissing her also; and Ellen did not shrink from the kiss, so +pleasant were the lips that tendered it; so kind and frank the +smile, so winning the eye; so agreeable the whole air of the +person. She turned from Ellen again to Miss Alice. + +"It's a long while that I have not seen you, dear not since +you went to Mrs. Marshman's. And what a day you have chosen to +come at last!" + +"I can't help that," said Alice, pulling off her bonnet, "I +couldn't wait any longer. I wanted to see you dolefully, Mrs. +Vawse." + +"Why, my dear? what's the matter? I have wanted to see you, +but not dolefully." + +"That's the very thing, Mrs. Vawse; I wanted to see you to get +a lesson of quiet contentment." + +"I never thought you wanted such a lesson, Miss Alice. What's +the matter?" + +"I can't get over John's going away." + +Her lip trembled and her eye was swimming as she said so. The +old woman passed her hands over the gentle head, and kissed +her brow. + +"So I thought so I felt, when my mistress died, and my +husband, and my sons, one after the other. But now I think I +can say, with Paul, 'I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, +therewith to be content.' I think so maybe that I deceive +myself; but they are all gone, and I am certain that I am +content now." + +"Then surely I ought to be," said Alice. + +"It is not till one looses one's hold of other things, and +looks to Jesus alone, that one finds how much he can do. +'There is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother;' but I +never knew all that meant till I had no other friends to lean +upon; nay, I should not say _no_ other friends; but my +dearest were taken away. You have _your_ dearest still, Miss +Alice." + +"Two of them," said Alice, faintly, "and hardly that, now." + +"I have not one," said the old woman, "I have not one; but +my home is in heaven, and my Saviour is there, preparing a +place for me. I know it I am sure of it and I can wait a +little while, and rejoice all the while I am waiting. Dearest +Miss Alice 'none of them that trust in him shall be +desolate;' don't you believe that?" + +"I do, surely, Mrs. Vawse," said Alice, wiping away a tear or +two; "but I forget it sometimes; or the pressure of present +pain is too much for all that faith and hope can do." + +"It hinders faith and hope from acting that is the trouble. +'They that seek the Lord, shall not want any good thing.' I +know that is true, of my own experience; so will you, dear." + +"I know it, Mrs. Vawse I know it all; but it does me good to +hear you say it. I thought I should become accustomed to +John's absence, but I do not at all; the autumn winds all the +while seem to sing to me that he is away." + +"My dear love," said the old lady, "it sorrows me much to hear +you speak so; I would take away this trial from you if I +could; but He knows best. Seek to live nearer to the Lord, +dear Miss Alice, and he will give you much more than he has +taken away." + +Alice again brushed away some tears. + +"I felt I must come and see you to-day," said she, "and you +have comforted me already. The sound of your voice always does +me good. I catch courage and patience from you, I believe." + +" 'As iron sharpeneth iron, so a man sharpeneth the +countenance of his friend.' How did you leave Mr. and Mrs. +Marshman? and has Mr. George returned yet?" + +Drawing their chairs together, a close conversation began. +Ellen had been painfully interested and surprised by what went +before, but the low tone of voice now seemed to be not meant +for her ear, and turning away her attention, she amused +herself with taking a general survey. + +It was easy to see that Mrs. Vawse lived in this room, and +probably had no other to live in. Her bed was in one corner; +cupboards filled the deep recesses on each side of the +chimney; and in the wide fireplace, the crane and the hooks +and trammels hanging upon it showed that the bedroom and +sitting-room was the kitchen too. Most of the floor was +covered with a thick rag carpet; where the boards could be +seen they were beautifully clean and white, and everything +else in the room, in this respect, matched with the boards. +The panes of glass in the little windows were clean and bright +as panes of glass could be made; the hearth was clean swept +up; the cupboard doors were unstained and unsoiled, though +fingers had worn the paint off; dust was nowhere. On a little +stand by the chimney corner lay a large Bible and another +book; close beside stood a cushioned arm-chair. Some other +apartment there probably was where wood and stores were kept; +nothing was to be seen here that did not agree with the very +comfortable face of the whole. It looked as if one might be +happy there; it looked as if somebody _was_ happy there; and a +glance at the old lady of the house would not alter the +opinion. Many a glance Ellen gave her as she sat talking with +Alice; and with every one she felt more and more drawn towards +her. She was somewhat under the common size, and rather stout; +her countenance most agreeable; there was sense, character, +sweetness in it. Some wrinkles, no doubt, were there, too; +lines deep-marked, that spoke of sorrows once known. Those +storms had all passed away; the last shadow of a cloud had +departed; her evening sun was shining clear and bright towards +the setting; and her brow was beautifully placid, not as +though it never had been, but as if it never could be ruffled +again. Respect no one could help feeling for her; and more +than respect, one felt, would grow with acquaintance. Her +dress was very odd, Ellen thought. It was not American, and +what it was she did not know, but supposed Mrs. Vawse must +have a lingering fancy for the costume as well as for the +roofs of her fatherland. More than all, her eye turned again +and again to the face, which seemed to her, in its changing +expression, winning and pleasant exceedingly. The mouth had +not forgotten to smile, nor the eye to laugh; and though this +was not often seen, the constant play of feature showed a deep +and lively sympathy in all Alice was saying, and held Ellen's +charmed gaze; and when the old lady's looks and words were at +length turned to herself, she blushed to think how long she +had been looking steadily at a stranger. + +"Little Miss Ellen, how do you like my house on the rock +here?" + +"I don't know, Maam," said Ellen; "I like it very much; only +I don't think I should like it so well in winter." + +"I am not certain that I don't like it then best of all. Why +would you not like it in winter?" + +"I shouldn't like the cold, Maam, and to be alone." + +"I like to be alone but cold? I am in no danger of freezing, +Miss Ellen. I make myself very warm keep good fires and my +house is too strong for the wind to blow it away. Don't you +want to go out and see my cow? I have one of the best cows +that ever you saw; her name is Snow: there is not a black hair +upon her; she is all white. Come, Miss Alice; Mr. Marshman +sent her to me a month ago; she's a great treasure, and worth +looking at." + +They went across the yard to the tiny barn or outhouse, where +they found Snow nicely cared for. She was in a warm stable, a +nice bedding of straw upon the floor, and plenty of hay laid +up for her. Snow deserved it, for she was a beauty, and a very +well-behaved cow, letting Alice and Ellen stroke her and pat +her, and feel of her thick hide, with the most perfect +placidity. Mrs. Vawse meanwhile went to the door to look out. + +"Nancy ought to be home to milk her," she said; "I must give +you supper and send you off. I've no feeling nor smell if snow +isn't thick in the air somewhere; we shall see it here soon." + +"I'll milk her," said Alice. + +"I'll milk her!" said Ellen; "I'll milk her! Ah, do let me! I +know how to milk; Mr. Van Brunt taught me, and I have done it +several times. May I? I should like it dearly." + +"You shall do it surely, my child," said Mrs. Vawse. "Come +with me, and I'll give you the pail and the milking-stool." + +When Alice and Ellen came in with the milk, they found the +kettle on, the little table set, and Mrs. Vawse very busy at +another table. + +"What are you doing, Mrs. Vawse, may I ask?" said Alice. + +"I'm just stirring up some Indian meal for you; I find I have +not but a crust left." + +"Please to put that away, Maam, for another time. Do you +think I didn't know better than to come up to this mountain +top without bringing along something to live upon while I am +here? Here's a basket, Maam, and in it are divers things; I +believe Margery and I between us have packed up enough for two +or three suppers to say nothing of Miss Fortune's pie. There +it is sure to be good, you know; and here are some of my +cakes, that you like so much, Mrs. Vawse," said Alice, as she +went on pulling the things out of the basket; "there is a +bowl of butter that's not wanted, I see and here is a loaf +of bread; and that's all. Ellen, my dear, this basket will be +lighter to carry down than it was to bring up." + +"I am glad of it, I am sure," said Ellen; "my arm hasn't done +aching yet, though I had it so little while." + +"Ah, I am glad to hear that kettle singing," said their +hostess. "I can give you good tea, Miss Alice; you'll think +so, I know, for it's the same Mr. John sent me. It is very +fine tea; and he sent me a noble supply, like himself," +continued Mrs. Vawse, taking some out of her little caddy. "I +ought not to say I have no friends left; I cannot eat a meal +that I am not reminded of two good ones. Mr. John knew one of +my weak points when he sent me that box of souchong." + +The supper was ready, and the little party gathered round the +table. The tea did credit to the judgment of the giver and the +skill of the maker, but they were no critics that drank it. + +Alice and Ellen were much too hungry and too happy to be +particular. Miss Fortune's pumpkin pie was declared to be very +fine, and so were Mrs. Vawse's cheese and butter. Eating and +talking went on with great spirit, their old friend seeming +scarce less pleased or less lively than themselves. Alice +proposed the French plan, and Mrs. Vawse entered into it very +frankly; it was easy to see that the style of building and of +dress to which she had been accustomed in early life were not +the only things remembered kindly for old times' sake. It was +settled they should meet as frequently as might be, either +here or at the parsonage, and become good Frenchwomen with all +convenient speed. + +"Will you wish to walk so far to see me again, little Miss +Ellen?" + +"Oh yes, Maam!" + +"You won't fear the deep snow, and the wind and cold, and the +steep hill?" + +"Oh no, Maam, I won't mind them a bit; but, Maam, Miss Alice +told me to ask you why you loved better to live up here than +down where it is warmer. I shouldn't ask if she hadn't said I +might." + +"Ellen has a great fancy for getting at the reason of +everything, Mrs. Vawse," said Alice, smiling. + +"You wonder anybody should choose it, don't you, Miss Ellen?" +said the old lady. + +"Yes, Maam, a little." + +"I'll tell you the reason, my child. It is for the love of my +old home, and the memory of my young days. Till I was as old +as you are, and a little older, I lived among the mountains +and upon them; and after that, for many a year, they were just +before my eyes every day, stretching away for more than one +hundred miles, and piled up one above another, fifty times as +big as any you ever saw; these are only molehills to them. I +loved them oh! how I love them still! If I have one +unsatisfied wish," said the old lady, turning to Alice, "it is +to see my Alps again; but that will never be. Now, Miss Ellen, +it is not that I fancy when I get to the top of this hill that +I am among my own mountains, but I can breathe better here +than down in the plain. I feel more free; and in the village I +would not live for gold, unless that duty bade me." + +"But all alone, so far from everybody," said Ellen. + +"I am never lonely; and, old as I am, I don't mind a long walk +or a rough road, any more than your young feet do." + +"But isn't it very cold?" said Ellen. + +"Yes, it is very cold? what of that? I make a good blazing +fire; and then I like to hear the wind whistle." + +"Yes, but you wouldn't like to have it whistling inside as +well as out," said Alice. "I will come and do the listing and +caulking for you in a day or two. Oh, you have it done without +me! I am sorry." + +"No need to be sorry, dear I am glad; you don't look fit for +any troublesome jobs." + +"I am fit enough," said Alice. "Don't put up the curtains; +I'll come and do it." + +"You must come with a stronger face, then," said her old +friend; "have you wearied yourself with walking all this way?" + +"I was a little weary," said Alice, "but your nice tea has +made me up again." + +"I wish I could keep you all night," said Mrs. Vawse, looking +out; "but your father would be uneasy. I am afraid the storm +will catch you before you get home; and you aren't fit to +breast it. Little Ellen, too, don't look as if she was made of +iron. Can't you stay with me?" + +"I must not it wouldn't do," said Alice, who was hastily +putting on her things; "we'll soon run down the hill. But we +are leaving you alone where's Nancy?" + +"She'll not come if there's a promise of a storm," said Mrs. +Vawse; "she often stays out a night." + +"And leaves you alone!" + +"I am never alone," said the old lady, quietly; "I have +nothing to fear; but I am uneasy about you, dear. Mind my +words; don't try to go back the way you came; take the other +road; it's easier; and stop when you get to Mrs. Van Brunt's; +Mr. Van Brunt will take you the rest of the way in his little +waggon." + +"Do you think it is needful?" said Alice, doubtfully. + +"I am sure it is best. Hasten down. _Adieu, mon enfant_." + +They kissed and embraced her, and hurried out. + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +Showing that in certain circumstances white is black. + + +The clouds hung thick and low; the wind was less than it had +been. They took the path Mrs. Vawse had spoken of; it was +broader and easier than the other, winding more gently down +the mountain; it was sometimes, indeed, travelled by horses, +though far too steep for any kind of carriage. Alice and Ellen +ran along without giving much heed to anything but their +footing down, down running and bounding, hand in hand, +till want of breath obliged them to slacken their pace. + +"Do you think it will snow soon?" asked Ellen. + +"I think it will snow how soon, I cannot tell. Have you had +a pleasant afternoon?" + +"Oh, very!" + +"I always have when I go there. Now, Ellen, there is an +example of contentment for you. If ever a woman loved husband +and children and friends, Mrs. Vawse loved hers; I know this +from those who knew her long ago; and now, look at her. Of +them all, she has none left but the orphan daughter of her +youngest son, and you know a little what sort of a child that +is." + +"She must be a very bad girl," said Ellen; "you can't think +what stories she told me about her grandmother." + +"Poor Nancy!" said Alice. "Mrs. Vawse has no money nor +property of any kind, except what is in her house; but there +is not a more independent woman breathing. She does all sorts +of things to support herself. Now, for instance, Ellen, if +anybody is sick within ten miles round, the family are too +happy to get Mrs. Vawse for a nurse. She is an admirable one. +Then she goes out tailoring at the farmers' houses; she brings +home wool and returns it spun into yarn; she brings home yarn +and knits it up into stockings and socks; all sorts of odd +jobs. I have seen her picking hops; she isn't above doing +anything, and yet she never forgets her own dignity. I think, +wherever she goes and whatever she is about, she is at all +times one of the most truly lady-like persons I have ever +seen. And everybody respects her; everybody likes to gain her +good will; she is known all over the country; and all the +country are her friends." + +"They pay her for doing these things, don't they?" + +"Certainly; not often in money; more commonly in various kinds +of matters that she wants flour, and sugar, and Indian meal, +and pork, and ham, and vegetables, and wool anything; it is +but a little of each that she wants. She has friends that +would not permit her to earn another sixpence if they could +help it, but she likes better to live as she does. And she is +always as you saw her to-day cheerful and happy as a little +girl." + +Ellen was turning over Alice's last words, and thinking that +little girls were not _always_ the cheerfullest and happiest +creatures in the world, when Alice suddenly exclaimed, "It is +snowing! Come, Ellen, we must make haste now!" and set off +at a quickened pace. Quick as they might, they had gone not a +hundred yards when the whole air was filled with the falling +flakes, and the wind, which had lulled for a little, now rose +with greater violence, and swept round the mountain furiously. +The storm had come in good earnest, and promised to be no +trifling one. Alice and Ellen ran on, holding each other's +hands and strengthening themselves against the blast, but +their journey became every moment more difficult. The air was +dark with the thick-falling snow; the wind seemed to blow in +every direction by turns, but chiefly against them, blinding +their eyes with the snow, and making it necessary to use no +small effort to keep on their way. Ellen hardly knew where she +went, but allowed herself to be pulled along by Alice, or, as +well, pulled _her_ along it was hard to say which hurried +most. In the midst of this dashing on down the hill, Alice all +at once came to a sudden stop. + +"Where's the Captain?" said she. + +"I don't know," said Ellen "I haven't thought of him since +we left Mrs. Vawse's." + +Alice turned her back to the wind, and looked up the road they +had come there was nothing but wind and snow there; how +furiously it blew! Alice called "Pussy!" + +"Shall we walk up the road a little way, or shall we stand and +wait for him here?" said Ellen, trembling, half from exertion +and half from a vague fear of she knew not what. + +Alice called again; no answer, but a wild gust of wind and +snow that drove past. + +"I can't go on and leave him," said Alice; "he might perish in +the storm." And she began to walk slowly back, calling at +intervals, "Pussy! kitty! pussy!" and listening for an answer +that came not. Ellen was very unwilling to tarry, and nowise +inclined to prolong their journey by going backwards. She +thought the storm grew darker and wilder every moment. + +"Perhaps Captain staid up at Mrs. Vawse's," she said, "and +didn't follow us down." + +"No," said Alice; "I am sure he did. Hark! wasn't that he?" + +"I don't hear anything," said Ellen, after a pause of anxious +listening. + +Alice went a few steps further. + +"I hear him!" she said; "I hear him! poor kitty!" and she set +off at a quick pace up the hill. Ellen followed, but presently +a burst of wind and snow brought them both to a stand. Alice +faltered a little at this, in doubt whether to go up or down; +but then, to their great joy, Captain's far-off cry was heard, +and both Alice and Ellen strained their voices to cheer and +direct him. In a few minutes he came in sight, trotting +hurriedly along through the snow, and on reaching his mistress +he sat down immediately on the ground, without offering any +caress a sure sign that he was tired. Alice stooped down and +took him up in her arms. + +"Poor kitty!" she said, "you've done your part for to-day, I +think; I'll do the rest. Ellen, dear, it's of no use to tire +ourselves out at once; we will go moderately. Keep hold of my +cloak, my child; it takes both of my arms to hold this big +cat. Now, never mind the snow; we can bear being blown about a +little; are you very tired?" + +"No," said Ellen, "not very; I am a little tired; but I don't +care for that, if we can only get home safe." + +"There's no difficulty about that, I hope. Nay, there may be +some _difficulty_, but we shall get there, I think, in good +safety after a while. I wish we were there now, for your sake, +my child." + +"Oh, never mind me," said Ellen, gratefully; "I am sorry for +_you_, Miss Alice; you have the hardest time of it, with that +heavy load to carry; I wish I could help you." + +"Thank you, my dear, but nobody could do that; I doubt if +Captain would lie in any arms but mine." + +"Let me carry the basket, then," said Ellen, "do, Miss +Alice." + +"No, my dear, it hangs very well on my arm. Take it gently; +Mrs. Van Brunt's isn't very far off; we shall feel the wind +less when we turn." + +But the road seemed long. The storm did not increase in +violence truly there was no need of that but the looked- +for turning was not soon found, and the gathering darkness +warned them day was drawing towards a close. As they neared +the bottom of the hill, Alice made a pause. + +"There's a path that turns off from this, and makes a shorter +cut to Mrs. Van Brunt's, but it must be above here; I must +have missed it, though I have been on the watch constantly." + +She looked up and down. It would have been a sharp eye indeed +that had detected any slight opening in the woods on either +side of the path, which the driving snow-storm blended into +one continuous wall of trees. They could be seen stretching +darkly before and behind them; but more than that where they +stood near together, and where scattered apart, was all +confusion, through the fast-falling shower of flakes. + +"In a few minutes he came in sight." + +"Shall we go back and look for the path?" said Ellen. + +"I am afraid we shouldn't find it if we did," said Alice; "we +should only lose our time, and we have none to lose. I think +we had better go straight forward." + +"Is it much further this way than the other path we have +missed?" + +"A good deal all of half a mile. I am sorry; but courage, my +child! we shall know better than to go out in snowy weather +next time on long expeditions, at least." + +They had to shout to make each other hear; so drove the snow +and wind through the trees, and into their very faces and +ears. They plodded on. It was plodding; the snow lay thick +enough now to make their footing uneasy, and grew deeper every +moment; their shoes were full; their feet and ankles were wet; +and their steps began to drag heavily over the ground. Ellen +clung as close to Alice's cloak as their hurried travelling +would permit; sometimes one of Alice's hands was loosened for +a moment to be passed round Ellen's shoulders, and a word of +courage or comfort in the clear calm tone, cheered her to +renewed exertion. The night fell fast; it was very darkling by +the time they reached the bottom of the hill, and the road did +not yet allow them to turn their faces towards Mrs. Van +Brunt's. A wearisome piece of the way this was, leading them +_from_ the place they wished to reach. They could not go fast, +either; they were too weary, and the walking too heavy. +Captain had the best of it; snug and quiet he lay wrapped in +Alice's cloak and fast asleep, little wotting how tired his +mistress's arms were. + +The path at length brought them to the long-desired turning; +but it was by this time so dark, that the fences on each side +of the road showed but dimly. They had not spoken for a while; +as they turned the corner, a sigh of mingled weariness and +satisfaction escaped from Ellen's lips. It reached Alice's +ear. + +"What's the matter, love?" said the sweet voice. No trace of +weariness was allowed to come into it. + +"I am so glad we have got here at last," said Ellen, looking +up with another sigh, and removing her hand for an instant +from its grasp on the cloak to Alice's arm. + +"My poor child! I wish I could carry you, too! Can you hold a +little longer?" + +"Oh, yes, dear Miss Alice; I can hold on." + +But Ellen's voice was not so well guarded. It was like her +steps, a little unsteady. She presently spoke again. + +"Miss Alice are you afraid?" + +"I am afraid of your getting sick, my child, and a little +afraid of it for myself of nothing else. What is there to be +afraid of?" + +"It is very dark," said Ellen; "and the storm is so thick do +you think you can find the way?" + +"I know it perfectly; it is nothing but to keep straight on; +and the fences would prevent us from getting out of the road. +It is hard walking, I know, but we shall get there by-and-by; +bear up as well as you can, dear. I am sorry I can give you no +help but words. Don't you think a nice bright fire will look +comfortable after all this?" + +"O dear, yes!" answered Ellen, rather sadly. + +"Are _you_ afraid, Ellen?" + +"No, Miss Alice not much I don't like its being so dark; I +can't see where I am going." + +"The darkness makes our way longer and more tedious; it will +do us no other harm, love. I wish I had a hand to give you, +but this great cat must have both of mine. The darkness and +the light are both alike to our Father: we are in his Hand; we +are safe enough, dear Ellen." + +Ellen's hand left the cloak again for an instant to press +Alice's arm in answer; her voice failed at the minute. Then +clinging anew as close to her side as she could get, they +toiled patiently on. The wind had somewhat lessened of its +violence, and, besides, it blew not now in their faces, but +against their backs, helping them on. Still the snow continued +to fall very fast, and already lay thick upon the ground; +every half hour increased the heaviness and painfulness of +their march; and darkness gathered till the very fences could +no longer be seen. It was pitch dark; to hold the middle of +the road was impossible; their only way was to keep along by +one of the fences; and, for fear of hurting themselves against +some outstanding post or stone, it was necessary to travel +quite gently. They were indeed in no condition to travel +otherwise, if light had not been wanting. Slowly and +patiently, with painful care groping their way, they pushed on +through the snow and the thick night. Alice could _feel_ the +earnestness of Ellen's grasp upon her clothes; and her clothes +pressing up to her, made their progress still slower and more +difficult than it would otherwise have been. + +"Miss Alice," said Ellen. + +"What, my child?" + +"I wish you would speak to me once in a while." + +Alice freed one of her hands, and took hold of Ellen's. + +"I have been so busy picking my way along, I have neglected +you, haven't I?" + +"Oh, no, Maam. But I like to hear the sound of your voice +sometimes; it makes me feel better." + +"This is an odd kind of travelling, isn't it?" said Alice, +cheerfully; "in the dark, and feeling our way along? This +will be quite an adventure to talk about, won't it?" + +"Quite," said Ellen. + +"It is easier going this way, don't you find it so? The wind +helps us forward." + +"It helps me too much," said Ellen; "I wish it wouldn't be +quite so very kind. Why, Miss Alice, I have enough to do to +hold myself together, sometimes. It almost makes me run, +though I am so very tired." + +"Well, it is better than having it in our faces, at any rate. +Tired you are, I know, and must be. We shall want to rest all +day tomorrow, shan't we?" + +"Oh, I don't know!" said Ellen, sighing; "I shall be glad when +we begin. How long do you think it will be, Miss Alice, before +we get to Mrs. Van Brunt's?" + +"My dear child, I cannot tell you. I have not the least notion +whereabouts we are. I can see no way-marks, and I cannot judge +at all of the rate at which we have come." + +"But what if we should have passed it in this darkness?" said +Ellen. + +"No, I don't think that," said Alice, though a cold doubt +struck her mind at Ellen's words; "I think we shall see the +glimmer of Mrs. Van Brunt's friendly candle, by-and-by." + +But more uneasily and more keenly now she stove to see that +glimmer through the darkness; strove till the darkness seemed +to press painfully upon her eyeballs, and she almost doubted +her being able to see any light if light there were; it was +all blank thick darkness still. She began to question +anxiously with herself which side of the house was Mrs. Van +Brunt's ordinary sitting-room; whether she should see the +light from it before or after passing the house; and now her +glance was directed often behind her, that they might be sure +in any case of not missing their desired haven. In vain she +looked forward or back; it was all one; no cheering glimmer of +lamp or candle greeted her straining eyes. Hurriedly now from +time to time the comforting words were spoken to Ellen, for to +pursue the long stretch of way that led onward from Mr. Van +Brunt's to Miss Fortune's would be a very serious matter; +Alice wanted comfort herself. + +"Shall we get there soon, do you think, Miss Alice?" said poor +Ellen, whose wearied feet carried her painfully over the +deepening snow. The tone of voice went to Alice's heart. + +"I don't know, my darling; I hope so," she answered, but it +was spoken rather patiently than cheerfully. "Fear nothing, +dear Ellen; remember who has the care of us; darkness and +light are both alike to Him; nothing will do us any real +harm." + +"How tired you must be, dear Miss Alice, carrying pussy!" +Ellen said, with a sigh. + +For the first time Alice echoed the sigh; but almost +immediately Ellen exclaimed in a totally different tone, +"There's a light! but it isn't a candle it is moving about; +what is it, Miss Alice?" + +They stopped and looked. A light there certainly was, dimly +seen, moving at some little distance from the fence on the +opposite side of the road. All of a sudden it disappeared. + +"What is it?" whispered Ellen, fearfully. + +"I don't know, my love, yet; wait" + +They waited several minutes. + +"What could it be?" said Ellen. "It was certainly a light; I +saw it as plainly as ever I saw anything; what can it have +done with itself? there it is again! going the other way!" + +Alice waited no longer, but screamed out, "Who's there?" + +But the light paid no attention to her cry; it travelled on. + +"Halloo!" called Alice, again, as loud as she could. + +"Halloo!" answered a rough deep voice. The light suddenly +stopped. + +"That's he! that's he!" exclaimed Ellen, in an ecstasy, and +almost dancing "I know it it's Mr. Van Brunt! it's Mr. Van +Brunt! oh, Miss Alice!" + +Struggling between crying and laughing Ellen could not stand +it, but gave way to a good fit of crying. Alice felt the +infection, but controlled herself, though her eyes watered as +her heart sent up its grateful tribute; as well as she could +she answered the halloo. + +The light was seen advancing towards them. Presently it +glimmered faintly behind the fence, showing a bit of the dark +rails covered with snow, and they could dimly see the figure +of a man getting over them. He crossed the road to where they +stood. It was Mr. Van Brunt. + +"I am very glad to see you, Mr. Van Brunt." said Alice's sweet +voice; but it trembled a little. + +"Oh, Mr. Van Brunt!" sobbed Ellen. + +That gentleman, at first dumb with astonishment, lifted his +lantern to survey them, and assure his eyes that his ears had +not been mistaken. + +"Miss Alice! how in the name of wonder! and my poor little +lamb! but what on 'arth, Maam you must be half dead. Come +this way just come back a little bit why, where were you +going, Maam?" + +"To your house, Mr. Van Brunt; I have been looking for it with +no little anxiety, I assure you." + +"Looking for it! Why, how on 'arth! you wouldn't see the +biggest house ever was built half a yard off such a plaguy +night as this." + +"I thought I should see the light from the windows, Mr. Van +Brunt." + +"The light from the windows! the storm rattled so agin' the +windows, that mother made me pull the great shutters to. I +won't have 'em shut again of a stormy night, that's a fact; +you'd ha' gone far enough afore you'd ha' seen the light +through them shutters." + +"Then we had passed the house already, hadn't we?" + +"Indeed, had you, Maam. I guess you saw my light, han't you?" + +"Yes, and glad enough we were to see it, too." + +"I suppose so. It happened so to-night now that is a queer +thing I minded that I hadn't untied my horse; he's a trick +of being untied at night, and won't sleep well if he ain't; +and mother wanted me to let him alone 'cause of the awful +storm, but I couldn't go to my bed in peace till I had seen +him to his'n. So that's how my lantern came to be going to the +barn in such an awk'ard night as this." + +They had reached the little gate, and Mr. Van Brunt with some +difficulty pulled it open. The snow lay thick upon the neat +brick walk which Ellen had trod the first time with wet feet +and dripping garments. A few steps further, and they came to +the same door that had opened then so hospitably to receive +her. As the faint light of the lantern was thrown upon the old +latch and door-posts, Ellen felt at home; and a sense of +comfort sank down into her heart which she had not known for +some time. + + +CHAPTER XX. + +Head-sick and heart-sick. + + +Mr. van Brunt flung open the door, and the two wet and weary +travellers stepped after him into the same cheerful, +comfortable-looking kitchen that had received Ellen once +before. Just the same tidy, clean swept up, a good fire, and +the same old red-backed chairs standing round on the hearth in +most cozy fashion. It seemed to Ellen a perfect storehouse of +comfort; the very walls had a kind face for her. There were no +other faces, however; the chairs were all empty. Mr. Van Brunt +put Alice in one and Ellen in another, and shouted, "Mother! +here!" muttering that she had taken herself off with the +light somewhere. Not very far: for in half a minute, answering +the call, Mrs. Van Brunt and the light came hurriedly in. + +"What's the matter, 'Brahm? who's this? why 'tain't Miss +Alice! My gracious me! and all wet! oh, dear, dear! poor +lamb! Why, Miss Alice, dear, where have you been? and if +that ain't my little Ellen! oh dear! what a fix you are in! +Well, darling, I'm glad to see you again a'most anyway." + +She crossed over to kiss Ellen as she said this; but surprise +was not more quickly alive than kindness and hospitality. She +fell to work immediately to remove Alice's wet things, and to +do whatever their joint prudence and experience might suggest +to ward off any ill effects from the fatigue and exposure the +wanderers had suffered; and while she was thus employed, Mr. +Van Brunt busied himself with Ellen, who was really in no +condition to help herself. It was curious to see him carefully +taking off Ellen's wet hood (not the blue one) and knocking it +gently to get ride of the snow; evidently thinking that +ladies' things must have delicate handling. He tried the cloak +next, but boggled sadly at the fastening of that, and at last +was fain to call in help. + +"Here, Nancy! where are you? step here and see if you can +undo this here thing, whatever you call it; I believe my +fingers are too big for it." + +It was Ellen's former acquaintance who came forward in +obedience to this call. Ellen had not seen before that she was +in the room. Nancy grinned a mischievous smile of recognition +as she stooped to Ellen's throat and undid the fastening of +the cloak, and then shortly enough bade her "get up, that she +might take it off!" Ellen obeyed, but was very glad to sit +down again. While Nancy went to the door to shake the cloak, +Mr. Van Brunt was gently pulling off Ellen's wet gloves, and +on Nancy's return he directed her to take off the shoes, which +were filled with snow. Nancy sat down on the floor before +Ellen to obey this order; and, tired and exhausted as she was, +Ellen felt the different manner in which her hands and feet +were waited upon. + +"How did you get into this scrape?" said Nancy; "_this_ was none +of my doings anyhow. It'll never be dry weather, Ellen, where +you are. I won't put on my Sunday go-to-meeting clothes when I +go a walking with you. You had ought to ha' been a duck or a +goose, or something like that. What's that for, Mr. Van +Brunt!" + +This last query, pretty sharply spoken, was in answer to a +light touch of that gentleman's hand upon Miss Nancy's ear, +which came rather as a surprise. He deigned no reply. + +"You're a fine gentleman!" said Nancy, tartly. + +"Have you done what I gave you to do?" said Mr. Van Brunt, +coolly. + +"Yes there!" said Nancy, holding up Ellen's bare feet on one +hand, while the fingers of the other, secretly applied in +ticklish fashion to the soles of them, caused Ellen suddenly +to start and scream. + +"Get up!" said Mr. Van Brunt. Nancy didn't think best to +disobey. "Mother, han't you got nothing you want Nancy to do?" + +"Sally," said Mrs. Van Brunt, "you and Nancy go and fetch here +a couple of pails of hot water right away." + +"Go, and mind what you are about," said Mr. Van Brunt; "and +after that keep out of this room, and don't whisper again till +I give you leave. Now, Miss Ellen, dear, how do you feel?" + +Ellen said in words that she felt "nicely," but the eyes and +the smile said a great deal more; Ellen's heart was running +over. + +"Oh, she'll feel nicely directly, I'll be bound," said Mrs. +Van Brunt; "wait till she get her feet soaked, and then!" + +"I do feel nicely now," said Ellen. And Alice smiled in answer +to their inquiries, and said if she only knew her father was +easy, there would be nothing wanting to her happiness. + +The bathing of their feet was a great refreshment, and their +kind hostess had got ready a plentiful supply of hot herb-tea, +with which both Alice and Ellen were well dosed. While they +sat sipping this, toasting their feet before the fire, Mrs. +Van Brunt and the girls meanwhile preparing their room, Mr. +Van Brunt suddenly entered. He was cloaked and hatted, and had +a riding-whip in his hand. + +"Is there any word you'd like to get home, Miss Alice? I'm +going to ride a good piece that way, and I can stop as good as +not." + +"To-night, Mr. Van Brunt?" exclaimed Alice, in astonishment. + +Mr. Van Brunt's silence seemed to say that to-night was the +time and no other. + +"But the storm is too bad," urged Alice. "Pray don't go till +to-morrow." + +"Pray don't, Mr. Van Brunt," said Ellen. + +"Can't help it; I've got business must go. What shall I say, +Maam?" + +"I should be _very_ glad," said Alice, "to have my father know +where I am. Are you going very near the Nose?" + +"Very near." + +"Then I shall be greatly obliged if you will be so kind as to +stop and relieve my father's anxiety. But how _can_ you go in +such weather? and so dark as it is." + +"Never fear," said Mr. Van Brunt. "We'll be back in half an +hour, if 'Brahm and me don't come across a snowdrift a _leetle_ +too deep. Good night, Maam." And out he went. + +" 'Back in half an hour,' " said Alice, musing. "Why, he said +he had been to untie his horse for the night. He must be going +on our account, I am sure, Ellen!" + +"On _your_ account," said Ellen, smiling. "Oh, I knew that all +the time, Miss Alice. I don't think he'll stop to relieve Aunt +Fortune's anxiety." + +Alice sprang to call him back, but Mrs. Van Brunt assured her +it was too late, and that she need not be uneasy, for her son +"didn't mind the storm no more than a weather-board. 'Brahm +and 'Brahm could go anywhere in any sort of a time. He was +agoing without speaking to you, but I told him he had better, +for maybe you wanted to send some word particular. And your +room's ready now, dear, and you'd better go to bed, and sleep +as long as you can." + +They went thankfully. + +"Isn't this a pleasant room?" said Ellen, who saw everything +in rose colour; "and a nice bed? But I feel as if I could +sleep on the floor to-night. Isn't it a'most worth while to +have such a time, Miss Alice, for the sake of the pleasure +afterwards?" + +"I don't know, Ellen," said Alice, smiling; "I won't say that; +though it _is_ worth paying a price for, to find how much +kindness there is in some people's hearts. As to sleeping on +the floor, I must say I never felt less inclined to it." + +"Well, I am tired enough, too," said Ellen, as they laid +themselves down. "Two nights with you in a week! Oh, those +weeks before I saw you, Miss Alice!" + +One earnest kiss for good night; and Ellen's sign of pleasure +on touching the pillow was scarcely breathed when sleep, deep +and sound, fell upon her eyelids. + +It was very late next morning when they awoke, having slept +rather heavily than well. They crawled out of bed, feeling +stiff and sore in every limb, each confessing to more evil +effects from their adventure than she had been aware of the +evening before. All the rubbing and bathing and drinking that +Mrs. Van Brunt had administered, had been too little to undo +what wet and cold and fatigue had done. But Mrs. Van Brunt had +set her breakfast-table with everything her house could +furnish that was nice; a bountifully-spread board it was. Mr. +Humphreys was there, too; and no bad feelings of two of the +party could prevent that from being a most cheerful and +pleasant meal. Even Mr. Humphreys and Mr. Van Brunt, two +persons not usually given to many words, came out wonderfully +on this occasion; gratitude and pleasure in the one, and +generous feeling on the part of the other, untied their +tongues; and Ellen looked from one to the other in some +amazement, to see how agreeable they could be. Kindness and +hospitality always kept Mrs. Van Brunt in full flow; and +Alice, whatever she felt, exerted herself and supplied what +was wanting everywhere, like the transparent glazing which +painters use to spread over the dead colour of their pictures; +unknown, it was she gave life and harmony to the whole. And +Ellen, in her enjoyment of everything and everybody, forgot or +despised aches and pains, and even whispered to Alice that +coffee was making her well again. + +But happy breakfasts must come to an end, and so did this, +prolonged though it was. Immediately after, the party, whom +circumstances had gathered for the first and probably the last +time, scattered again: but the meeting had left pleasant +effects on all minds. Mrs. Van Brunt was in general delight +that she had entertained so many people she thought a great +deal of, and particularly glad of the chance of showing her +kind feelings towards two of the number. Mr. Humphreys +remarked upon "that very sensible, good-hearted man, Mr. Van +Brunt, towards whom he felt himself under great obligation." +Mr. Van Brunt said "the minister warn't such a grum man as +people called him;" and more-over said, "it was a good thing +to have an education, and he had a notion to read more." As +for Alice and Ellen, they went away full of kind feeling for +every one, and much love to each other. This was true of them +before; but their late troubles had drawn them closer +together, and given them fresh occasion to value their +friends. + +Mr. Humphreys had brought the little one-horse sleigh for his +daughter, and, soon after breakfast, Ellen saw it drive off +with her. Mr. Van Brunt then harnessed his own and carried +Ellen home. Ill though she felt, the poor child made an +effort, and spent part of the morning in finishing the long +letter to her mother, which had been on the stocks since +Monday. The effort became painful towards the last: and the +aching limbs and trembling hand of which she complained, were +the first beginnings of a serious fit of illness. She went to +bed that same afternoon, and did not leave it again for two +weeks. Cold had taken violent hold of her system; fever set +in, and ran high; and half the time little Ellen's wits were +roving in delirium. Nothing, however, could be too much for +Miss Fortune's energies; she was as much at home in a sick +room as in a well one. She flew about with increased agility; +was upstairs and downstairs twenty times in the course of a +day, and kept all straight everywhere. Ellen's room was always +the picture of neatness; the fire, the wood fire was taken +care of; Miss Fortune seemed to know, by instinct, when it +wanted a fresh supply, and to be on the spot by magic to give +it. Ellen's medicines were dealt out in proper time; her +gruels and drinks perfectly well made and arranged, with +appetizing nicety, on a little table by the bedside, where she +could reach them herself; and Miss Fortune was generally at +hand when she was wanted. But, in spite of all this, there was +something missing in that sick room there was a great want; +and whenever the delirium was upon her, Ellen made no secret +of it. She was never violent; but she moaned, sometimes +impatiently, and sometimes plaintively, for her mother. It was +a vexation to Miss Fortune to hear her. The name of her mother +was all the time on her lips; if by chance her aunt's name +came in, it was spoken in a way that generally sent her +bouncing out of the room. + +"Mamma," poor Ellen would say, "just lay your hand on my +forehead, will you? it's so hot! Oh, do, Mamma! where are +you? Do put your hand on my forehead, won't you? Oh, do speak +to me! why don't you, Mamma? Oh, why don't she come to me?" + +Once, when Ellen was uneasily calling in this fashion for her +mother's hand, Miss Fortune softly laid her own upon the +child's brow; but the quick sudden jerk of the head from under +it told her how well Ellen knew the one from the other; and, +little as she cared for Ellen, it was wormwood to her. + +Miss Fortune was not without offers of help during this sick +time. Mrs. Van Brunt, and afterwards Mrs. Vawse, asked leave +to come and nurse Ellen; but Miss Fortune declared it was more +plague than profit to her; and she couldn't be bothered with +having strangers about. Mrs. Van Brunt she suffered, much +against her will, to come for a day or two: at the end of +that, Miss Fortune found means to get rid of her civilly. Mrs. +Vawse she would not allow to stay an hour. The old lady got +leave, however, to go up to the sick room for a few minutes. +Ellen, who was then in a high fever, informed her that her +mother was downstairs, and her aunt Fortune would not let her +come up; she pleaded, with tears, that she might come, and +entreated Mrs. Vawse to take her aunt away, and send her +mother. Mrs. Vawse tried to soothe her. Miss Fortune grew +impatient. + +"What on earth's the use," said she, "of talking to a child +that's out of her head? she can't hear reason; that's the way +she gets into whenever the fever's on her. I have the pleasure +of hearing that sort of thing all the time. Come away, Mrs. +Vawse, and leave her; she can't be better any way than alone, +and I am in the room every other thing she's just as well +quiet. Nobody knows," said Miss Fortune, on her way down +stairs "nobody knows the blessings of taking care of other +people's children that han't tried it. _I've_ tried it, to my +heart's content." + +Mrs. Vawse sighed, but departed in silence. + +It was not when the fever was on her and delirium high that +Ellen most felt the want she then so pitifully made known. +There were other times when her head was aching, and, weary +and weak, she lay still there oh, how she longed then for +the dear wonted face, the old quiet smile that carried so much +of comfort and assurance with it, the voice that was like +heaven's music, the touch of that loved hand to which she had +clung for so many years! She could scarcely bear to think of +it, sometimes. In the still, wakeful hours of night, when the +only sound to be heard was the heavy breathing of her aunt +asleep on the floor by her side; and in the long, solitary +day, when the only variety to be looked for was Miss Fortune's +flitting in and out, and there came to be a sameness about +that Ellen mourned her loss bitterly. Many and many were the +silent tears that rolled down and wet her pillow; many a long- +drawn sigh came from the very bottom of Ellen's heart: she was +too weak and subdued now for violent weeping. She wondered +sadly why Alice did not come to see her; it was another great +grief added to the former. She never chose, however, to +mention her name to her aunt. She kept her wonder and her +sorrow to herself all the harder to bear for that. After two +weeks Ellen began to mend, and then she became exceedingly +weary of being alone and shut up to her room. It was a +pleasure to have her Bible and hymn-book lying upon the bed, +and a great comfort when she was able to look at a few words, +but that was not very often, and she longed to see somebody, +and hear something besides her aunt's dry questions and +answers. + +One afternoon Ellen was sitting, alone as usual, bolstered up +in bed. Her little hymn-book was clasped in her hand; though +not equal to reading, she felt the touch of it a solace to +her. Half-dozing, half-waking, she had been perfectly quiet +for some time, when the sudden and not very gentle opening of +the room door caused her to start and open her eyes. They +opened wider than usual, for, instead of her Aunt Fortune, it +was the figure of Miss Nancy Vawse that presented itself. She +came in briskly, and, shutting the door behind her, advanced +to the bedside. + +"Well," said she, "there you are! Why, you look smart enough. +I've come to see you." + +"Have you?" said Ellen, uneasily. + +"Miss Fortune's gone out, and she told me to come and take +care of you; so I'm a going to spend the afternoon." + +"Are you?" said Ellen, again. + +"Yes; ain't you glad? I knew you must be lonely, so I thought +I'd come." + +There was a mischievous twinkle in Nancy's eyes. Ellen for +once in her life wished for her aunt's presence. + +"What are you doing?" + +"Nothing," said Ellen. + +"Nothing indeed! It's a fine thing to lie there and do +nothing. You won't get well in a hurry, I guess will you? +You look as well as I do this minute. Oh, I always knew you +was a sham." + +"You are very much mistaken," said Ellen, indignantly; "I have +been very sick, and I am not at all well yet." + +"Fiddle-de-dee! it's very nice to think so; I guess you're +lazy. How soft and good those pillows do look to be sure. +Come, Ellen, try getting up a little. I believe you hurt +yourself with sleeping; it'll do you good to be out of bed +awhile; come, get up!" + + +She pulled Ellen's arm as she spoke. + +"Stop, Nancy let me alone!" cried Ellen, struggling with all +her force "I musn't I can't! I musn't get up! What do you +mean? I'm not able to sit up at all; let me go!" + +She succeeded in freeing herself from Nancy's grasp. + +"Well, you're an obstinate piece," said the other; "have your +own way. But mind, I'm left in charge of you; is it time for +you to take your physic?" + +"I am not taking any," said Ellen. + +"What are you taking?" + +"Nothing but gruel and little things." + +" 'Gruel and little things;' little things means something +good, I s'pose. Well, is it time for you to take your gruel or +one of the little things?" + +"No, I don't want any." + +"Oh, that's nothing; people never know what's good for them; +I'm your nurse now, and I'm going to give it to you when I +think you want it. Let me feel your pulse: yes, your pulse +says gruel is wanting. I shall put some down to warm right +away." + +"I shan't take it," said Ellen. + +"That's a likely story! You'd better not say so. I rather +s'pose you will if I give it to you. Look here, Ellen, you'd +better mind how you behave; you're going to do just what I +tell you. I know how to manage you; if you make any fuss I +shall just tickle you finely," said Nancy, as she prepared a +bed of coals, and set the cup of gruel on it to get hot. "I'll +do it in no time at all, my young lady so you'd better +mind." + +Poor Ellen involuntarily curled up her feet under the bed- +clothes, so as to get them as far as possible out of harm's +way. She judged the best thing was to keep quiet if she could, +so she said nothing. Nancy was in great glee; with something +of the same spirit of mischief that a cat shows when she has a +captured mouse at the end of her paws. While the gruel was +heating, she spun round the room in quest of amusement; and +her sudden jerks and flings from one place and thing to +another had so much of lawlessness, that Ellen was in +perpetual terror as to what she might take it into her head to +do next. + +"Where does that door lead to?" + +"I believe that one leads to the garret," said Ellen. + +"You _believe so?_ why don't you say it does, at once?" + +"I haven't been up to see." + +"You haven't! you expect me to believe that, I s'pose? I am +not quite such a gull as you take me for. What's up there?" + +"I don't know, of course." + +"Of course! I declare I don't know what you are up to exactly; +but if you won't tell me, I'll find out for myself pretty +quick that's one thing." + +She flung open the door and ran up; and Ellen heard her feet +trampling overhead from one end of the house to the other; and +sounds, too, of pushing and pulling things over the floor; it +was plain Nancy was rummaging. + +"Well," said Ellen, as she turned uneasily upon her bed, "it's +no affair of mine; I can't help it, whatever she does. But oh! +wont Aunt Fortune be angry!" + +Nancy presently came down with her frock gathered up into a +bag before her. + +"What do you think I have got here?" said she, "I s'pose you +didn't know there was a basket of fine hickory-nuts up there +in the corner? Was it you or Miss Fortune that hid them away +so nicely? I s'pose she thought nobody would ever think of +looking behind that great blue chest and under the feather- +bed, but it takes me! Miss Fortune was afraid of your +stealing 'em, I guess, Ellen?" + +"She needn't have been," said Ellen, indignantly. + +"No, I s'pose you wouldn't take 'em if you saw 'em; you +wouldn't eat 'em if they were cracked for you, would you?" + +She flung some on Ellen's bed as she spoke. Nancy had seated +herself on the floor, and using for a hammer a piece of old +iron she had brought down with her from the garret, she was +cracking the nuts on the clean white hearth. + +"Indeed I wouldn't!" said Ellen, throwing them back; "and you +oughtn't to crack them there, Nancy you'll make a dreadful +mess." + +"What, do you think I care?" said the other, scornfully. She +leisurely cracked and ate as many as she pleased of the nuts, +bestowing the rest in the bosom of her frock. Ellen watched +fearfully for her next move. If she should open the little +door and get among her books and boxes! + +Nancy's first care, however, was the cup of gruel. It was +found too hot for any mortal lips to bear, so it was set on +one side to cool. Then taking up her rambling examination of +the room, she went from window to window. + +"What fine big windows! one might get in here easy enough. I +declare, Ellen, some night I'll set the ladder up against +here, and the first thing you'll see will be me coming in. +You'll have me to sleep with you before you think." + +"I'll fasten my windows," said Ellen. + +"No, you won't. You'll do it a night or two, maybe, but then +you'll forget it. I shall find them open when I come. Oh, I'll +come!" + +"But I could call Aunt Fortune," said Ellen. + +"No, you couldn't, 'cause if you spoke a word I'd tickle you +to death; that's what I'd do. I know how to fix you off. And +if you did call her, I'd just whap out of the window and run +off with my ladder, and then you'd get a fine combing for +disturbing the house. What's in this trunk?" + +"Only my clothes and things," said Ellen. + +"Oh, goody! that's fine; now I'll have a look at 'em. That's +just what I wanted, only I didn't know it. Where's the key? +Oh, here it is, sticking in that's good!" + +"Oh, please don't!" said Ellen, raising herself on her elbow, +"they're all in nice order, and you'll get them all in +confusion. Oh, do let them alone!" + +"You'd best be quiet, or I'll come and see you," said Nancy; +"I'm just going to look at everything in it, and if I find +anything out of sorts, you'll get it. What's this? ruffles, I +declare! ain't you fine! I'll see how they look on me. What a +plague! you haven't a glass in the room. Never mind I am +used to dressing without a glass." + +"Oh, I wish you wouldn't," said Ellen, who was worried to the +last degree at seeing her nicely-done-up ruffles round Nancy's +neck; "they're so nice, and you'll muss them all up." + +"Don't cry about it," said Nancy, coolly, "I ain't agoing to +eat 'em. My goodness! what a fine hood! ain't that pretty?" + +The nice blue hood was turning about in Nancy's fingers, and +well looked at inside and out. Ellen was in distress for fear +it would go on Nancy's head, as well as the ruffles round her +neck; but it didn't; she flung it at length on one side, and +went on pulling out one thing after another, strewing them +very carelessly about the floor. + +"What's here? a pair of dirty stockings, as I am alive! Ain't +you ashamed to put dirty stockings in your trunk?" + +"They are no such thing," said Ellen, who, in her vexation, +was in danger of forgetting her fear "I've worn them but +once." + +"They've no business in here, anyhow," said Nancy, rolling +them up in a hard ball and giving them a sudden fling at +Ellen. They just missed her face, and struck the wall beyond. +Ellen seized them to throw back, but her weakness warned her +she was not able, and a moment reminded her of the folly of +doing anything to rouse Nancy, who, for the present, was +pretty quiet. Ellen lay upon her pillow and looked on, ready +to cry with vexation. All her nicely-stowed piles of white +clothes were ruthlessly hurled out and tumbled about; her +capes tried on; her summer dresses unfolded, displayed, +criticised. Nancy decided one was too short; another very +ugly; a third horribly ill-made; and when she had done with +each, it was cast out of her way, on one side or the other, as +the case might be. + +The floor was littered with clothes in various states of +disarrangement and confusion. The bottom of the trunk was +reached at last, and then Nancy suddenly recollected her +gruel, and sprang to it. But it had grown cold again. + +"This won't do," said Nancy, as she put it on the coals again + "it must be just right; it'll warm soon, and then, Miss +Ellen, you're agoing to take it, whether or no. I hope you +won't give me the pleasure of pouring it down." + +Meanwhile she opened the little door of Ellen's study closet +and went in there, though Ellen begged her not. She pulled the +door to, and stayed some time perfectly quiet. Not able to see +or hear what she was doing, and fretted beyond measure that +her work-box and writing-desk should be at Nancy's mercy, or +even feel the touch of her fingers, Ellen at last could stand +it no longer, but threw herself out of the bed, weak as she +was, and went to see what was going on. Nancy was seated +quietly on the floor, examining, with much seeming interest, +the contents of the work-box; trying on the thimble, cutting +bits of thread with the scissors, and marking the ends of the +spools with whatever like pieces of mischief her restless +spirit could devise; but when Ellen opened the door, she put +the box from her and started up. + +"My goodness me!" said she, "this'll never do. What are you +out here for? you'll catch your death with those dear little +bare feet, and we shall have the mischief to pay!" + +As she said this, she caught up Ellen in her arms as if she +had been a baby, and carried her back to the bed, where she +laid her with two or three little shakes, and then proceeded +to spread up the clothes and tuck her in all round. She then +ran for the gruel. Ellen was in great question whether to give +way to tears or vexation; but with some difficulty determined +upon vexation as the best plan. Nancy prepared the gruel to +her liking, and brought it to the bedside; but to get it +swallowed was another matter. Nancy was resolved Ellen should +take it. Ellen had less strength, but quite as much obstinacy +as her enemy, and she was equally resolved not to drink a +drop. Between laughing on Nancy's part, and very serious anger +on Ellen's, a struggle ensued. Nancy tried to force it down, +but Ellen's shut teeth were as firm as a vice, and the end was +that two-thirds were bestowed on the sheet. Ellen burst into +tears. Nancy laughed. + +"Well, I _do_ think," said she, "you are one of the hardest +customers ever I came across. I shouldn't want to have the +managing of you when you get a little bigger. Oh, the way Miss +Fortune will look, when she comes in here will be a caution! +Oh, what fun!" + + +Nancy shouted and clapped her hands. "Come, stop crying!" said +she; "what a baby you are! what are you crying for? come, +stop! I'll make you laugh if you don't." + +Two or three little applications of Nancy's fingers made her +words good, but laughing was mixed with crying, and Ellen +writhed in hysterics. Just then came a little knock at the +door. Ellen did not hear it, but it quieted Nancy. She stood +still a moment; and then, as the knock was repeated, she +called out boldly, "Come in!" Ellen raised her head "to see +who there might be;" and great was the surprise of both, and +the joy of one, as the tall form and broad shoulders of Mr. +Van Brunt presented themselves. + +"Oh, Mr. Van Brunt," sobbed Ellen, "I am so glad to see you! +won't you please send Nancy away?" + +"What are you doing here?" said the astonished Dutchman. + +"Look and see, Mr. Van Brunt," said Nancy with a smile of +mischief's own curling; "you won't be long finding out, I +guess." + +"Take yourself off, and don't let me hear of your being caught +here again." + +"I'll go when I'm ready, thank you," said Nancy; "and as to +the rest, I haven't been caught the first time, yet; I don't +know what you mean." + +She sprang as she finished her sentence, for Mr. Van Brunt +made a sudden movement to catch her then and there. He was +foiled; and then began a running chase round the room, in the +course of which Nancy dodged, pushed, and sprang, with the +power of squeezing by impassables, and overleaping +impossibilities, that, to say the least of it, was remarkable. +The room was too small for her, and she was caught at last. + +"I vow!" said Mr. Van Brunt as he pinioned her hands, "I +should like to see you play blind man's buff for once, if I +warn't the blind man." + +"How'd you see me if you was?" said Nancy, scornfully. + +"Now, Miss Ellen," said Mr. Van Brunt, as he brought her to +Ellen's bedside, "here she is safe; what shall I do with her?" + +"If you will only send her away, and not let her come back, +Mr. Van Brunt," said Ellen, "I'll be so much obliged to you!" + +"Let me go!" said Nancy; "I declare you're a real mean +Dutchman, Mr. Van Brunt." + +He took both her hands in one, and laid the other lightly over +her ears. + +"I'll let you go," said he. "Now, don't you be caught here +again, if you know what is good for yourself." + +He saw Miss Nancy out of the door, and then came back to +Ellen, who was crying heartily again from nervous vexation. + +"She's gone," said he. "What has that wicked thing been doing, +Miss Ellen? what's the matter with you?" + +"Oh, Mr. Van Brunt," said Ellen, "you can't think how she has +worried me; she has been here this great while; just look at +all my things on the floor, and that isn't the half." + +Mr. Van Brunt gave a long whistle as his eye surveyed the +tokens of Miss Nancy's mischief-making, over and through which +both she and himself had been chasing at full speed, making +the state of matters rather worse than it was before. + +"I do say," said he, slowly, "that is too bad. I'd fix them up +again for you, Miss Ellen, if I knew how; but my hands are +a'most as clumsy as my feet, and I see the marks of them +there; it's too bad, I declare; I didn't know what I was going +on." + +"Never mind, Mr. Van Brunt," said Ellen, "I don't mind what +you have done, a bit. I'm so glad to see you!" + +She put out her little hand to him as she spoke. He took it in +his own, silently; but, though he said and showed nothing of +it, Ellen's look and tone of affection thrilled his heart with +pleasure. + +"How do you do?" said he, kindly. + +"I'm a great deal better," said Ellen. "Sit down, won't you, +Mr. Van Brunt? I want to see you a little." + +Horses wouldn't have drawn him away after that. He sat down. + +"Ain't you going to be up again some of these days?" said he. + +"Oh yes, I hope so," said Ellen, sighing; "I am very tired of +lying here." + +He looked round the room; got up and mended the fire, then +came and sat down again. + +"I was up yesterday for a minute," said Ellen; "but the chair +tired me so, I was glad to get back to bed again." + +It was no wonder; harder and straighter-backed chairs never +were invented. Probably Mr. Van Brunt thought so. + +"Wouldn't you like to have a rocking cheer?" said he, +suddenly, as if a bright thought had struck him. + +"Oh yes, how much I should!" said Ellen, with another long- +drawn breath; "but there isn't such a thing in the house, that +ever I saw." + +"Ay, but there is in other houses, though," said Mr. Van +Brunt, with as near an approach to a smile as his lips +commonly made; "we'll see!" + +Ellen smiled more broadly. "But don't you give yourself any +trouble for me," said she. + +"Trouble, indeed!" said Mr. Van Brunt; "I don't know anything +about that. How came that wicked thing up here to plague you?" + +"She said Aunt Fortune left her to take care of me." + +"That's one of her lies. Your aunt's gone out, I know; but +she's a trifle wiser than to do such a thing as that. She has +plagued you badly, han't she?" + +He might have thought so. The colour which excitement brought +into Ellen's face had faded away, and she had settled herself +back against her pillow with an expression of weakness and +weariness that the strong man saw and felt. + +"What is there I can do for you?" said he, with a gentleness +that seemed almost strange from such lips. + +"If you would," said Ellen, faintly, "if you _could_ be so +kind as to read to me a hymn I should be so glad. I've had +nobody to read to me." + +Her hand put the little book towards him as she said so. + +Mr. Van Brunt would vastly rather any one had asked him to +plough an acre. He was to the full as much confounded as poor +Ellen had once been at a request of his. He hesitated, and +looked towards Ellen, wishing for an excuse. But the pale +little face that lay there against the pillow the drooping +eyelids the meek, helpless look of the little child, put all +excuses out of his head; and though he would have chosen to do +almost anything else, he took the book, and asked her "Where?" +She said, "Anywhere;" and he took the first he saw. + + +"Poor, weak, and worthless though I am, +I have a rich, almighty Friend; +Jesus the Saviour is his name, +He freely loves, and without end." + + +"Oh," said Ellen, with a sigh of pleasure, and folding her +hands on her breast, "how lovely that is!" + +He stopped and looked at her a moment, and then went on with +increased gravity + + +"He ransom'd me from hell with blood, +And by his pow'r my foes controll'd; +He found me wand'ring far from God, +And brought me to his chosen fold." + + +"Fold?" said Ellen, opening her eyes; "what is that?" + +"It's where sheep are penned, ain't it?" said Mr. Van Brunt, +after a pause. + +"Oh, yes!" said Ellen; "that's it; I remember; that's like +what he said 'I am the good shepherd,' and 'the Lord is my +shepherd;' I know now. Go on, please." + +He finished the hymn without more interruption. Looking again +towards Ellen, he was surprised to see several large tears +finding their way down her cheeks from under the wet eyelash. +But she quickly wiped them away. + +"What do you read them things for," said he, "if they make you +feel bad?" + +"Feel bad!" said Ellen. "Oh, they don't; they make me happy; I +love them dearly. I never read that one before. You can't +think how much I am obliged to you for reading it to me. Will +you let me see where it is?" + +He gave it her. + +"Yes, there's his mark!" said Ellen, with sparkling eyes. +"Now, Mr. Van Brunt, would you be so very good as to read it +once more?" + +He obeyed. It was easier this time. She listened, as before, +with closed eyes, but the colour came and went, once or twice. + +"Thank you, very much," she said, when he had done. "Are you +going?" + +"I must; I have some things to look after." + +She held his hand still. + +"Mr. Van Brunt, don't _you_ love hymns?" + +"I don't know much about 'em, Miss Ellen." + +"Mr. Van Brunt, are you one of that fold?" + +"What fold?" + +"The fold of Christ's people." + +"I'm afeard not, Miss Ellen," said he, soberly, after a +minute's pause. + +"Because," said Ellen, bursting into tears, "I wish you were, +very much." + +She carried the great brown hand to her lips before she let it +go. He went, without saying a word. But when he got out, he +stopped and looked at a little tear she had left on the back +of it. And he looked till one of his own fell there to keep it +company. + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +Footsteps of Angels. + + +The next day, about the middle of the afternoon, a light step +crossed the shed, and the great door opening gently, in walked +Miss Alice Humphreys. The room was all "redd up," and Miss +Fortune and her mother sat there at work; one picking over +white beans at the table, the other in her usual seat by the +fire, and at her usual employment, which was knitting. Alice +came forward and asked the old lady how she did. + +"Pretty well! oh!, pretty well!" she answered, with the look +of bland good-humour her face almost always wore "and glad +to see you, dear. Take a chair." + +Alice did so, quite aware that the other person in the room +was _not_ glad to see her. + +"And how goes the world with you, Miss Fortune?" + +"Humph! it's a queer kind of world, I think," answered that +lady, drily, sweeping some of the picked beans into her pan: +"I get a'most sick of it, sometimes." + +"Why, what's the matter?" said Alice, pleasantly; "may I ask? +Has anything happened to trouble you?" + +"Oh, no!" said the other, somewhat impatiently; "nothing +that's any matter to anyone but myself; it's no use speaking +about it." + +"Ah! Fortune never would take the world easy," said the old +woman, shaking her head from side to side; "never would; I +never could get her to." + +"Now, do hush, mother, will you!" said the daughter, turning +round upon her with startling sharpness of look and tone; " +'take the world easy!' you always did; I am glad I ain't like +you." + +"I don't think it's a bad way, after all," said Alice; "what's +the use of taking it hard, Miss Fortune?" + +"The way one goes on!" said that lady, picking away at her +beans very fast, and not answering Alice's question; "I'm +tired of it; toil, toil, and drive, drive, from morning to +night and what's the end of it all?" + +"Not much," said Alice, gravely, "if our toiling looks no +further than this world. When we go we shall carry nothing +away with us. I should think it would be very wearisome to +toil only for what we cannot keep, nor stay long to enjoy." + +"It's a pity you warn't a minister, Miss Alice," said Miss +Fortune, drily. + +"Oh, no, Miss Fortune," said Alice, smiling, "the family would +be overstocked. My father is one, and my brother will be +another a third would be too much. You must be so good as to +let me preach without taking orders." + +"Well, I wish every minister was as good a one as you'd make," +said Miss Fortune, her hard face giving way a little; "at any +rate, nobody'd mind anything you'd say, Miss Alice." + +"That would be unlucky, in one sense," said Alice; "but I +believe I know what you mean. But, Miss Fortune, no one would +dream the world went very hard with you. I don't know anybody, +I think, lives in more independent comfort and plenty, and has +things more to her mind. I never come to the house that I am +not struck with the fine look of the farm, and all that +belongs to it." + +"Yes," said the old lady, nodding her head two or three times; +"Mr. Van Brunt is a good farmer very good there's no doubt +about that." + +"I wonder what _he'd_ do," said Miss Fortune, quickly and +sharply, as before, "if there warn't a head to manage for him! + Oh, the farm's well enough, Miss Alice tain't that; every +one knows where his own shoe pinches." + +"I wish you'd let me into the secret, then, Miss Fortune; I'm +a cobbler by profession." + +Miss Fortune's ill-humour was giving way, but something +disagreeable seemed again to cross her mind. Her brow +darkened. + +"I say it's a poor kind of world, and I'm sick of it! One may +slave, and slave one's life out for other people, and what +thanks do you get? I'm sick of it." + +"There's a little body up-stairs, or I'm much mistaken, who +will give you very sincere thanks for every kindness shown +her." + +Miss Fortune tossed her head, and brushing the refuse beans +into her lap, she pushed back her chair with a jerk, to go to +the fire with them. + +"Much you know about her, Miss Alice! Thanks, indeed! I +haven't seen the sign of such a thing since she's been here, +for all I have worked and worked, and had plague enough with +her, I am sure. Deliver me from other people's children, say +I!" + +"After all, Miss Fortune," said Alice, soberly, "it is not +what we _do_ for people that makes them love us or, at least, +everything depends on the way things are done. A look of love, +a word of kindness, goes further towards winning the heart +than years of service, or benefactions mountain high, without +them." + +"Does she say I am unkind to her?" asked Miss Fortune, +fiercely. + +"Pardon me," said Alice, "words on her part are unnecessary; +it is easy to see from your own that there is no love lost +between you, and I am very sorry it is so." + +"Love, indeed!" said Miss Fortune, with great indignation; +"there never was any to lose, I can assure you. She plagues +the very life out of me. Why, she hadn't been here three days +before she went off with that girl Nancy Vawse, that I had +told her never to go near, and was gone all night; that's the +time she got in the brook. And if you'd seen her face when I +was scolding her about it! it was like seven thunderclouds. +Much you know about it! I dare say she's very sweet to you; +that's the way she is to everybody beside me; they all think +she's too good to live; and it just makes me mad!" + +"She told me herself," said Alice, "of her behaving ill +another time, about her mother's letter." + +"Yes that was another time. I wish you'd seen her!" + +"I believe she saw and felt her fault in that case. Didn't she +ask your pardon? she said she would." + +"Yes," said Miss Fortune, drily "after a fashion." + +"Has she had her letter yet?" + +"No." + +"How is she to-day?" + +"Oh, she's well enough she's sitting up. You can go up and +see her." + +"I will, directly," said Alice. "But now, Miss Fortune, I am +going to ask a favour of you will you do me a great +pleasure?" + +"Certainly, Miss Alice if I can." + +"If you think Ellen has been sufficiently punished for her +ill-behaviour if you do not think it right to withhold her +letter still will you let me have the pleasure of giving it +to her? I should take it as a great favour to myself." + +Miss Fortune made no kind of reply to this, but stalked out of +the room, and in a few minutes stalked in again with the +letter, which she gave to Alice, only saying shortly + +"It came to me in a letter from her father." + +"You are willing she should have it?" said Alice. + +"Oh, yes! do what you like with it." + +Alice now went softly up stairs. She found Ellen's door a +little ajar, and looking in, could see Ellen seated in a +rocking-chair between the door and the fire, in her double +gown, and with her hymn-book in her hand. It happened that +Ellen had spent a good part of that afternoon in crying for +her lost letter; and the face that she turned to the door, on +hearing some slight noise outside, was very white and thin +indeed. And though it was placid, too, her eye searched the +crack of the door with a keen wistfulness that went to Alice's +heart. But as the door was gently pushed open, and the eye +caught the figure that stood behind it, the sudden and entire +change of expression took away all her powers of speech. +Ellen's face became radiant; she rose from her chair, and as +Alice came silently in, and kneeling down to be near her, took +her in her arms, Ellen put both hers round Alice's neck, and +laid her face there; one was too happy and the other too +touched, to say a word. + +"My poor child!" was Alice's first expression. + +"No, I ain't," said Ellen, tightening the squeeze of her arms +round Alice's neck; "I am not poor at all now." + +Alice presently rose, sat down in the rocking-chair, and took +Ellen in her lap; and Ellen rested her head on her bosom, as +she had been wont to do of old time on her mother's. + +"I am too happy," she murmured. But she was weeping, and the +current of tears seemed to gather force as it flowed. What was +little Ellen thinking of just then? Oh, those times gone by! +when she had sat just so; her head pillowed on another as +gentle breast; kind arms wrapped round her, just as now; the +same little, old double-gown; the same weak, helpless feeling; +the same committing herself to the strength and care of +another; how much the same, and, oh! how much not the same! + and Ellen knew both. Blessing, as she did, the breast on +which she leaned, and the arms whose pressure she felt, they +yet reminded her sadly of those most loved and so very far +away; and it was an odd mixture of relief and regret, joy and +sorrow, gratified and ungratified affection, that opened the +sluices of her eyes. Tears poured. + +"What is the matter, my love?" said Alice, softly. + +"I don't know," whispered Ellen. + +"Are you so glad to see me? or so sorry? or what is it?" + +"Oh, glad and sorry both, I think!" said Ellen, with a long +breath, and sitting up. + +"Have you wanted me so much, my poor child?" + +"I cannot tell you how much," said Ellen, her words cut short. + +"And didn't you know that I have been sick, too? What did you +think had become of me? Why, Mrs. Vawse was with me a whole +week, and this is the very first day I have been able to go +out. It is so fine to-day, I was permitted to ride Sharp +down." + +"Was that it?" said Ellen. "I did wonder, Miss Alice I did +wonder very much why you did not come to see me, but I never +liked to ask Aunt Fortune, because " + +"Because what?" + +"I don't know as I ought to say what I was going to; I had a +feeling she would be glad about what I was sorry about." + +"Don't know _that_ you ought to say," said Alice. "Remember, you +are to study English with me." + +Ellen smiled a glad smile. + +"And you have had a weary two weeks of it, haven't you, dear?" + +"Oh," said Ellen, with another long-drawn sigh, "how weary! +Part of that time, to be sure, I was out of my head; but I +have got _so_ tired lying here all alone; Aunt Fortune coming in +and out, was just as good as nobody." + +"Poor child!" said Alice, "you have had a worse time than I." + +"I used to lie and watch that crack in the door, at the foot +of my bed," said Ellen, "and I got so tired of it I hated to +see it; but when I opened my eyes I couldn't help looking at +it, and watching all the little ins and outs in the crack, +till I was as sick of it as could be; and that button too, +that fastens the door, and the little round mark the button +has made, and thinking how far the button went round. And +then, if I looked towards the windows, I would go right to +counting the panes, first up and down, and then across and I +didn't want to count them, but I couldn't help it; and +watching to see through which pane the sky looked brightest. +Oh! I got so sick of it all! There was only the fire that I +didn't get tired of looking at; I always liked to lie and look +at that, except when it hurt my eyes. And oh! how I wanted to +see you, Miss Alice! You can't think how sad I felt that you +didn't come to see me. I couldn't think what could be the +matter." + +"I should have been with you, dear, and not have left you, if +I had not been tied at home myself." + +"So I thought, and that made it seem so very strange. But oh! +don't you think," said Ellen, her face suddenly brightening +"don't you think Mr. Van Brunt came up to see me last night? +Wasn't it good of him? He even sat down and read to me only +think of that! And isn't he kind? he asked if I would like a +rocking-chair, and of course I said yes, for these other +chairs are dreadful they break my back; and there wasn't +such a thing as a rocking-chair in Aunt Fortune's house she +hates 'em, she says; and this morning, the first thing I knew, +in walked Mr. Van Brunt with this nice rocking-chair. Just get +up and see how nice it is; you see the back is cushioned, +and the elbows, as well as the seat; it's queer-looking, ain't +it? but it's very comfortable. Wasn't it good of him?" + +"It was very kind, I think. But do you know, Ellen, I am going +to have a quarrel with you?" + +"What about?" said Ellen. "I don't believe it's anything very +bad, for you look pretty good-humoured, considering." + +"Nothing _very_ bad," said Alice, "but still enough to quarrel +about. You have twice said '_ain't_ ' since I have been here." + +"Oh," said Ellen, laughing, "is that all?" + +"Yes," said Alice, "and my English ears don't like it at all." + +"Then they shan't hear it," said Ellen, kissing her. "I don't +know what makes me say it I never used to. But I've got more +to tell you I've had more visitors. Who do you think came to +see me? you'd never guess Nancy Vawse! Mr. Van Brunt came +in the very nick of time, when I was almost worried to death +with her. Only think of _her_ coming up here unknown to every +body! And she stayed an age, and how she _did_ go on! She +cracked nuts on the hearth; she got every stitch of my +clothes out of my trunk, and scattered them over the floor; +she tried to make me drink gruel, till, between us we spilled +a great parcel on the bed; and she had begun to tickle me +when Mr. Van Brunt came. Oh! wasn't I glad to see him! And +when Aunt Fortune came up and saw it all, she was as angry as +she could be; and she scolded and scolded, till at last I told +her it was none of my doing I couldn't help it at all and +she needn't talk so to me about it; and then she said it was +my fault, the whole of it! that if I hadn't scraped +acquaintance with Nancy, when she had forbidden me all this +would never have happened." + +"There is some truth in that, isn't there, Ellen?" + +"Perhaps so; but I think it might all have happened whether or +no; and, at any rate, it is a little hard to talk so to me +about it now, when it's all over, and can't be helped. Oh, I +have been so tired to-day, Miss Alice! Aunt Fortune has been +in such a bad humour." + +"What put her in a bad humour?" + +"Why, all this about Nancy in the first place; and then I know +she didn't like Mr. Van Brunt's bringing the rocking-chair for +me she couldn't say much, but I could see by her face. And +then Mrs. Van Brunt's coming I don't think she liked that. +Oh, Mrs. Van Brunt came to see me this morning, and brought me +a custard. How many people are kind to me, everywhere I go." + +"I hope, dear Ellen, you don't forget whose kindness sends +them all." + +"I don't, Miss Alice; I always think of that now; and it +seems, you can't think how pleasant, to me sometimes." + +"Then I hope you can bear unkindness from one poor woman +who, after all, isn't as happy as you are without feeling +any ill-will towards her in return." + +"I don't think I feel ill-will towards her," said Ellen; "I +always try as hard as I can not to; but I can't _like_ her, Miss +Alice; and I do get out of patience. It's very easy to put me +out of patience, I think; it takes almost nothing, sometimes." + +"But, remember, 'charity suffereth long, and is kind.' " + +"And I try all the while, dear Miss Alice, to keep down my bad +feelings," said Ellen, her eyes watering as she spoke; "I try, +and pray to get rid of them, and I hope I shall by-and-by; I +believe I am very bad." + +Alice drew her closer. + +"I have felt very sad part of to-day," said Ellen, presently; +"Aunt Fortune, and my being so lonely, and my poor letter, +altogether; but part of the time I felt a great deal better. I +was learning that lovely hymn do you know it, Miss Alice? + + +'Poor, weak, and worthless, though I am.' " + + +Alice went on: + + +" 'I have a rich, almighty Friend, +Jesus the Saviour is his name, +He freely loves, and without end.' + + +"Oh, dear Ellen, whoever can say that, has no right to be +unhappy. No matter what happens, we have enough to be glad +of." + +"And then I was thinking of those words in the Psalms +'Blessed is the man' stop, I'll find it; I don't know +exactly how it goes; 'Blessed is he whose transgression is +forgiven; whose sin is covered.' " + +"Oh, yes, indeed!" said Alice. "It is a shame that any trifles +should worry much those whose sins are forgiven them, and who +are the children of the great King. Poor Miss Fortune never +knew the sweetness of those words. We ought to be sorry for +her, and pray for her, Ellen; and never, never, even in +thought, return evil for evil. It is not like Christ to do +so." + +"I will not, I will not, if I can help it," said Ellen. + +"You can help it; but there is only one way. Now, Ellen, dear, +I have three pieces of news for you, that I think you will +like. One concerns you, another myself, and the third concerns +both you and myself. Which will you have first?" + +"Three pieces of good news!" said Ellen, with opening eyes; "I +think I'll have my part first." + +Directing Ellen's eyes to her pocket, Alice slowly made the +corner of the letter show itself. Ellen's colour came and went +quick as it was drawn forth; but when it was fairly out, and +she knew it again, she flung herself upon it with a desperate +eagerness Alice had not looked for; she was startled at the +half-frantic way in which the child clasped and kissed it, +weeping bitterly at the same time. Her transport was almost +hysterical. She had opened the letter, but she was not able to +read a word; and quitting Alice's arms, she threw herself upon +the bed, sobbing in a mixture of joy and sorrow that seemed to +take away her reason. Alice looked on surprised a moment, but +only a moment, and turned away. + +When Ellen was able to begin her letter, the reading of it +served to throw her back into fresh fits of tears. Many a word +of Mrs. Montgomery's went so to her little daughter's heart, +that its very inmost cords of love and tenderness were wrung. +It is true, the letter was short and very simple; but it came +from her mother's heart; it was written by her mother's hand; +and the very old remembered hand-writing had mighty power to +move her. She was so wrapped up in her own feelings, that +through it all she never noticed that Alice was not near her, +that Alice did not speak to comfort her. When the letter had +been read time after time, and wept over again and again, and +Ellen at last was folding it up for the present, she bethought +herself of her friend, and turned to look after her. Alice was +sitting by the window, her face hid in her hands; and as Ellen +drew near, she was surprised to see that her tears were +flowing, and her breast heaving. Ellen came quite close, and +softly laid her hand on Alice's shoulder. But it drew no +attention. + +"Miss Alice," said Ellen, almost fearfully, "_dear_ Miss Alice" + and her own eyes filled fast again "what is the matter? +won't you tell me? Oh! don't do so! please don't!" + +"I will not," said Alice, lifting her head; "I am sorry I have +troubled you, dear; I am sorry, I could not help it." + +She kissed Ellen, who stood anxious and sorrowful by her side, +and brushed away her tears. But Ellen saw she had been +shedding a great many. + +"What is the matter, dear Miss Alice? what has happened to +trouble you? won't you tell me?" Ellen was almost crying +herself. + +Alice came back to the rocking-chair, and took Ellen in her +arms again; but she did not answer her. Leaning her face +against Ellen's forehead, she remained silent. Ellen ventured +to ask no more questions; but lifting her hand once or twice +caressingly to Alice's face, she was distressed to find her +cheek wet still. Alice spoke at last. + +"It isn't fair not to tell you what is the matter, dear Ellen, +since I have let you see me sorrowing. It is nothing new, nor +anything I would have otherwise if I could. It is only that I +have had a mother once, and have lost her; and you brought +back the old time so strongly, that I could not command +myself." + +Ellen felt a hot tear drop upon her forehead, and again +ventured to speak her sympathy only by silently stroking +Alice's cheek. + +"It is all past now," said Alice; "it is all well. I would not +have her back again. I shall go to her, I hope, by-and-by." + +"Oh, no! You must stay with me," said Ellen, clasping both +arms around her. + +There was a long silence, during which they remained locked in +each other's arms. + +"Ellen, dear," said Alice, at length, "we are both motherless, +for the present, at least both of us almost alone: I think +God has brought us together to be a comfort to each other. We +will be sisters while He permits us to be so. Don't call me +Miss Alice any more. You shall be my little sister, and I will +be your elder sister, and my home shall be your home as well." + +Ellen's arms were drawn very close round her companion at +this, but she said nothing, and her face was laid in Alice's +bosom. There was another very long pause. Then Alice spoke in +a livelier tone. + +"Come, Ellen! look up! you and I have forgotten ourselves; it +isn't good for sick people to get down in the dumps. Look up, +and let me see these pale cheeks. Don't you want something to +eat?" + +"I don't know," said Ellen, faintly. + +"What would you say to a cup of chicken-broth?" + +"Oh, I should like it very much!" said Ellen, with new energy. + +"Margery made me some particularly nice, as she always does; +and I took it into my head a little might not come amiss to +you; so I resolved to stand the chance of Sharp's jolting it +all over me, and I rode down with a little pail of it on my +arm. Let me rake open these coals, and you shall have some +directly." + +"And did you come without being spattered?" said Ellen. + +"Not a drop. Is this what you use to warm things in? Never +mind, it has had gruel in it; I'll set the tin pail on the +fire; it won't hurt it." + +"I am so much obliged to you," said Ellen, "for do you know I +have got quite tired of gruel, and panada I can't bear." + +"Then I am very glad I brought it." + +While it was warming, Alice washed Ellen's gruel cup and +spoon; and presently she had the satisfaction of seeing Ellen +eating the broth with that keen enjoyment none know but those +that have been sick and are getting well. She smiled to see +her gaining strength almost in the very act of swallowing. + +"Ellen," said she, presently, "I have been considering your +dressing-table. It looks rather doleful. I'll make you a +present of some dimity, and when you come to see me you shall +make a cover for it, that will reach down to the floor and +hide those long legs." + +"That wouldn't do at all," said Ellen; "Aunt Fortune would go +off into all sorts of fits." + +"What about?" + +"Why, the washing, Miss Alice to have such a great thing to +wash every now and then. You can't think what a fuss she makes +if I have more than just so many white clothes in the wash +every week." + +"That's too bad," said Alice. "Suppose you bring it up to me +it wouldn't be often and I'll have it washed for you if +you care enough about it to take the trouble." + +"Oh, indeed I do!" said Ellen: "I should like it very much, +and I'll get Mr. Van Brunt to no, I can't, Aunt Fortune +won't let me; I was going to say, I would get him to saw off +the legs and make it lower for me, and then my dressing-box +would stand so nicely on the top. Maybe I can yet. Oh, I never +showed you my boxes and things." + +Ellen brought them all out, and displayed their beauties. In +the course of going over the writing-desk, she came to the +secret drawer, and a little money in it. + +"Oh, that puts me in mind!" she said. "Miss Alice, this money +is to be spent for some poor child; now, I've been thinking +Nancy has behaved so to me, I should like to give her +something, to show her that I don't feel unkindly about it +what do you think will be a good thing?" + +"I don't know, Ellen I'll take the matter into +consideration." + +"Do you think a Bible would do?" + +"Perhaps that would do as well as anything; I'll think about +it." + +"I should like to do it, very much," said Ellen, "for she has +vexed me wonderfully." + +"Well, Ellen, would you like to hear my other pieces of news? +or have you no curiosity?" + +"Oh, yes, indeed," said Ellen; "I had forgotten it entirely; +what is it, Miss Alice?" + +"You know, I told you one concerns only myself, but it is +great news to me. I learnt this morning that my brother will +come to spend the holidays with me. It is many months since I +have seen him." + +"Does he live far away?" said Ellen. + +"Yes he has gone far away to pursue his studies, and cannot +come home often. The other piece of news is, that I intend, if +you have no objection, to ask Miss Fortune's leave to have you +spend the holidays with me too." + +"Oh, delightful!" said Ellen, starting up, and clapping her +hands, and then throwing them round her adopted sister's neck; + "dear Alice, how good you are!" + +"Then I suppose I may reckon upon your consent," said Alice +"and I'll speak to Miss Fortune, without delay." + +"Oh, thank you, dear Miss Alice; how glad I am! I shall be +happy all the time from now till then thinking of it. You +aren't going?" + +"I must." + +"Ah, don't go yet! Sit down again; you know you're my sister +don't you want to read Mamma's letter?" + +"If you please, Ellen I should like it very much." + +She sat down, and Ellen gave her the letter, and stood by +while she read it, watching her with glistening eyes; and +though, as she saw Alice's fill, her own overflowed again, she +hung over her still to the last; going over every line this +time with a new pleasure: + + +"New York, Saturday, Nov. 22, 18 . + +"MY DEAR ELLEN, "I meant to have written to you before, but +have been scarcely able to do so. I did make one or two +efforts which came to nothing; I was obliged to give it up +before finishing anything that could be called a letter. To- +day I feel much stronger than I have at any time since your +departure. + +"I have missed you, my dear child, very much. There is not an +hour in the day, nor a half hour, that the want of you does +not come home to my heart; and I think I have missed you in my +very dreams. This separation is a very hard thing to bear. But +the hand that has arranged it does nothing amiss; we must +trust Him, my daughter, that all will be well. I feel it is +well; though sometimes the thought of your dear little face is +almost too much for me. I will thank God I have had such a +blessing so long, and I now commit my treasure to him. It is +an unspeakable comfort to me to do this, for nothing committed +to his care is ever forgotten or neglected. Oh! my daughter, +never forget to pray; never slight it. It is almost my only +refuge, now I have lost you, and it bears me up. How often +how often through years gone by when heart-sick and faint + I have fallen on my knees, and presently there have been, as +it were, drops of cool water sprinkled upon my spirit's fever. +Learn to love prayer, dear Ellen, and then you will have a +cure for all the sorrows of life. And keep this letter, that, +if ever you are like to forget it, your mother's testimony may +come to mind again. + +"My tea, that used to be so pleasant, has become a sad meal to +me. I drink it mechanically, and set down my cup, remembering +only that the dear little hand which used to minister to my +wants is near me no more. My child my child! words are +poor to express the heart's yearnings, my spirit is near you +all the time. + +"Your old gentleman has paid me several visits. The day after +you went, came some beautiful pigeons. I sent word back that +you were no longer here to enjoy his gifts, and the next day +he came to see me. He has shown himself very kind. And all +this, dear Ellen, had for its immediate cause your proper and +ladylike behaviour in the store. That thought has been sweeter +to me than all the old gentleman's birds and fruit. I am sorry +to inform you that, though I have seen him so many times, I am +still perfectly ignorant of his name. + +"We set sail Monday, in the _England_. Your father has secured a +nice state-room for me, and I have a store of comforts laid up +for the voyage. So next week you may imagine me out on the +broad ocean, with nothing but sky and clouds and water to be +seen around me, and probably much too sick to look at those. +Never mind that; the sickness is good for me. + +"I will write you as soon as I can again, and send by the +first conveyance. + +"And now, my dear baby my precious child farewell! May the +blessings of God be with you! Your affectionate mother, + +"E. MONTGOMERY." + + +"You ought to be a good child, Ellen," said Alice, as she +dashed away some tears. "Thank you for letter me see this; it +has been a great pleasure to me." + +"And now," said Ellen, "you feel as if you knew Mamma a +little." + +"Enough to honour and respect her very much. Now, good-bye, my +love; I must be at home before it is late. I will see you +again before Christmas comes." + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +Shows how Mr. Van Brunt could be sharp upon some things. + + +To Ellen's sorrow, she was pronounced next morning well enough +to come downstairs; her aunt averring that "it was no use to +keep a fire burning up there for nothing." She must get up and +dress in the cold, again; and winter had fairly set in now; +the 19th of December rose clear and keen. Ellen looked +sighingly at the heap of ashes and the dead brands in the +fireplace, where the bright little fire had blazed so +cheerfully the evening before. But regrets did not help the +matter, and shivering she began to dress as fast as she could. +Since her illness, a basin and pitcher had been brought into +her room, so the washing at the spout was ended for the +present; and, though the basin had no place but a chair, and +the pitcher must stand on the floor, Ellen thought herself too +happy. But how cold it was! The wind swept past her windows, +giving wintry shakes to the panes of glass, and through many +an opening in the wooden framework of the house it came in and +saluted Ellen's bare arms and neck. She hurried to finish her +dressing, and wrapping her double-gown over all, went down to +the kitchen. It was another climate there. A great fire was +burning, that it quite cheered Ellen's heart to look at; and +the air seemed to be full of coffee and buckwheat cakes; Ellen +almost thought she should get enough breakfast by the sense of +smell. + +"Ah! here you are," said Miss Fortune. "What have you got that +thing on for?" + +"It was so cold up-stairs," said Ellen, drawing up her +shoulders. The warmth had not got inside of her wrapper yet. + +"Well, 'tain't cold here; you'd better pull it off right away. +I've no notion of people's making themselves tender. You'll be +warm enough directly. Breakfast'll warm you." + +Ellen felt almost inclined to quarrel with the breakfast that +was offered in exchange for her comfortable wrapper; she +pulled it off, however, and sat down without saying anything. +Mr. Van Brunt put some cakes on her plate. + +"If breakfast's agoing to warm you," said he, "make haste and +get something down; or drink a cup of coffee you're as blue +as skim milk." + +"Am I?" said Ellen, laughing; "I feel blue, but I can't eat +such a pile of cakes as that, Mr. Van Brunt." + +As a general thing, the meals at Miss Fortune's were silent +solemnities; an occasional consultation, or a few questions +and remarks about farm affairs, being all that ever passed. +The breakfast this morning was a singular exception to the +common rule. + +"I am in a regular quandary," said the mistress of the house, +when the meal was about half over. + +Mr. Van Brunt looked up for an instant, and asked, "what +about?" + +"Why, how I am ever going to do to get those apples and +sausage-meat done? If I go to doing 'em myself, I shall about +get through by spring." + +"Why don't you make a bee?" said Mr. Van Brunt. + +"Ain't enough of either on 'em to make it worth while. I ain't +agoing to have all the bother of a bee without some thing to +show for't." + +"Turn'em both into one," suggested her counsellor, going on +with his breakfast. + +"Both?" + +"Yes let'em pare apples in one room and cut pork in +t'other." + +"But I wonder who ever heard of such a thing before," said +Miss Fortune, pausing with her cup of coffee half-way to her +lips. Presently, however, it was carried to her mouth, drunk +off, and set down with an air of determination. + +"I don't care," said she, "if it never was heard of. I'll do +it for once anyhow. I'm not one of them to care what folks +say. I'll have it so! But I won't have 'em to tea, mind you +I'd rather throw apples and all into the fire at once. I'll +have but one plague of setting tables, and that. I won't have +'em to tea. I'll make it up to 'em in the supper, though." + +"I'll take care to publish that," said Mr. Van Brunt. + +"Don't you go and do such a thing," said Miss Fortune, +earnestly. "I shall have the whole country on my hands. I +won't have but just as many on 'em as'll do what I want done; +that'll be as much as I can stand under. Don't you whisper a +word of it to a living creature. I'll go round and ask 'em +myself to come Monday evening." + +"Monday evening; then I suppose you'd like to have up the +sleigh this afternoon. Who's acoming?" + +"I don't know; I han't asked 'em yet." + +"They'll every soul come that's asked that you may depend; +there ain't one on 'em that would miss of it for a dollar." + +Miss Fortune bridled a little at the implied tribute to her +housekeeping. + +"If I was some folks, I wouldn't let people know I was in such +a mighty hurry to get a good supper," she observed, rather +scornfully. + +"Humph!" said Mr. Van Brunt; "I think a good supper ain't a +bad thing, and I've no objection to folk's knowing it." + +"Pshaw! I didn't mean _you_," said Miss Fortune; "I was thinking +of those Lawsons, and other folks." + +"If you're agoing to ask _them_ to your bee, you ain't of my +mind." + +"Well, I am, though," replied Miss Fortune; "there's a good +many hands of 'em; they can turn off a good lot of work in an +evening; and they always take care to get me to _their_ bees. I +may as well get something out of them in return, if I can." + +"They'll reckon on getting as much as they can get o' _you_, if +they come, there's no sort of doubt in my mind. It's my belief +Mimy Lawson will kill herself some of these days upon green +corn. She was at home to tea one day last summer, and I +declare I thought " + +What Mr. Van Brunt thought he left his hearers to guess. + +"Well, let them kill themselves if they like," said Miss +Fortune; "I am sure I am willing; there'll be enough; I ain't +agoing to mince matters when once I begin. Now, let me see. +There's five of the Lawsons to begin with I suppose they'll +all come Bill Huff and Jany, that's seven " + +"That Bill Huff is as good-natured a fellow as ever broke +ground," remarked Mr. Van Brunt. "Ain't better people in the +town than them Huffs are." + +"They're well enough," said Miss Fortune. "Seven and the +Hitchcocks, there's three of them, that'll make ten " + +"Dennison's ain't far from there," said Mr. Van Brunt. "Dan +Dennison's a fine hand at a'most anything, in-doors or out." + +"That's more than you can say for his sister. Cilly Dennison +gives herself so many airs, it's altogether too much for plain +country folks. I should like to know what she thinks herself. +It's a'most too much for my stomach to see her flourishing +that watch and chain." + +"What's the use of troubling yourself about other people's +notions?" said Mr. Van Brunt. "If folks want to take the road, +let them have it. That's my way. I am satisfied, provided they +don't run me over." + +" 'Tain't my way, then, I'd have you to know," said Miss +Fortune; "I despise it! And 'tain't your way, neither, Van +Brunt; what did you give Tom Larkens a cowhiding for?" + +" 'Cause he deserved it, if ever a man did," said Mr. Van +Brunt, quite rousing up; "he was treating that little brother +of his'n in a way a boy shouldn't be treated; and I am glad I +did it. I gave him notice to quit before I laid a finger on +him. He warn't doing nothing to _me_." + +"And how much good do you suppose it did?" said Miss Fortune, +rather scornfully. + +"It did just the good I wanted to do. He has seen fit to let +little Billy alone ever since." + +"Well, I guess I'll let the Dennisons come," said Miss +Fortune; "that makes twelve and you and your mother are +fourteen. I suppose that man Marshchalk will come dangling +along after the Hitchcocks." + +"To be sure he will; and his aunt, Miss Janet, will come with +him, most likely." + +"Well there's no help for it," said Miss Fortune. "That +makes sixteen." + +"Will you ask Miss Alice?" + +"Not I; she's another of your proud set. I don't want to see +anybody that thinks she's going to do me a great favour by +coming." + +Ellen's lips opened, but wisdom came in time to stop the words +that were on her tongue. It did not, however, prevent the +quick little turn of her head, which showed what she thought, +and the pale cheeks were for a moment bright enough. + +"She is, and I don't care who hears it," repeated Miss +Fortune. "I suppose she'd look as sober as a judge, too, if +she saw cider on the table; they say she won't touch a drop +ever, and thinks it's wicked; and if that ain't setting one's +self up for better than other folks, I don't know what is." + +"I saw her paring apples at the Huffs', though," said Mr. Van +Brunt, "and as pleasant as anybody; but she didn't stay to +supper." + +"I'd ask Mrs. Vawse, if I could get word to her," said Miss +Fortune; "but I can never travel up that mountain. If I get a +sight of Nancy, I'll tell her." + +"There she is, then," said Mr. Van Brunt, looking towards the +little window that opened into the shed. And there, indeed, +was the face of Miss Nancy pressed flat against the glass, +peering into the room! Miss Fortune beckoned to her. + +"That is the most impudent, shameless, outrageous piece of . +What were you doing at the window?" said she as Nancy came in. + +"Looking at you, Miss Fortune," said Nancy coolly. "What have +you been talking about, this great while? If there had only +been a pane of glass broken, I needn't have asked." + +"Hold your tongue," said Miss Fortune, "and listen to me." + +"I'll listen, Maam," said Nancy; "but it's no use to hold my +tongue. I do try sometimes, but I never could keep it long." + +"Have you done?" + +"I don't know, Maam," said Nancy, shaking her head; "it's +just as it happens." + +"You tell your granny I am going to have a bee here next +Monday evening, and ask her if she'll come to it." + +Nancy nodded. "If it's good weather," she added, +conditionally. + +"Stop, Nancy!" said Miss Fortune "here!" for Nancy was +shutting the door behind her. "As sure as you come here +Monday night without your grandma, you'll go out of the house +quicker than you come in; see if you don't!" + +With another gracious nod and smile, Nancy departed. + +"Well," said Mr. Van Brunt, rising, "I'll despatch this +business down-stairs, and then I'll bring up the sleigh. The +pickle's ready, I suppose." + +"No, it ain't," said Miss Fortune, "I couldn't make it +yesterday; but it's all in the kettle, and I told Sam to make +a fire down-stairs, so you can put it on when you do down. The +kits are all ready, and the salt, and everything else." + +Mr. Van Brunt went down the stairs that led to the lower +kitchen; and Miss Fortune, to make up for lost time, set about +her morning's work with even an uncommon measure of activity. +Ellen, in consideration of her being still weak, was not +required to do anything. She sat and looked on, keeping out of +the way of her bustling aunt as far as it was possible; but +Miss Fortune's gyrations were of that character, that no one +could tell five minutes beforehand what she might consider "in +the way." Ellen wished for her quiet room again. Mr. Van +Brunt's voice sounded downstairs in tones of business; what +could he be about? it must be very uncommon business that kept +him in the house. Ellen grew restless with the desire to go +and see, and to change her aunt's company for his; and no +sooner was Miss Fortune fairly shut up in the buttery at some +secret work, than Ellen gently opened the door at the head of +the lower stairs, and looked down. Mr. Van Brunt was standing +at the bottom, and looked up. + +"May I come down there, Mr. Van Brunt?" said Ellen, softly. + +"Come down here? to be sure you may! You may always come +straight where I am, without asking any questions." + +Ellen went down. But before she reached the lowest step she +stopped with almost a start, and stood fixed with such a +horrified face, that neither Mr. Van Brunt nor Sam Larkens, +who was there, could help laughing. + +"What's the matter?" said the former "they're all dead +enough, Miss Ellen; you needn't be scared." + +Three enormous hogs, which had been killed the day before, +greeted Ellen's eyes. They lay in different parts of the room, +with each a cob in his mouth. A fourth lay stretched upon his +back on the kitchen table, which was drawn out into the middle +of the floor. Ellen stood fast on the stair. + +"Have they been killed!" was her first astonished exclamation, +to which Sam responded with another burst. + +"Be quiet, Sam Larkens!" said Mr. Van Brunt. "Yes, Miss Ellen, +they've been killed, sure enough." + +"Are these the same pigs I used to see you feeding with corn, +Mr. Van Brunt?" + +"The identical same ones," replied that gentleman, as, laying +hold of the head of the one on the table, and applying his +long sharp knife with the other hand, he, while he was +speaking, severed it neatly and quickly from the trunk. "And +very fine porkers they are; I ain't ashamed of 'em." + +"And what's going to be done with them now?" said Ellen. + +"I am just going to cut them up and lay them down. You never +see nothing of the kind before, did you?" + +"No," said Ellen. "What do you mean by 'laying them down,' Mr. +Van Brunt?" + +"Why, laying 'em down in salt for pork and hams. You want to +see the whole operation, don't you? Well, here's a seat for +you. You'd better fetch that painted coat o' yourn and wrap +round you, for it ain't quite so warm here as up-stairs; but +it's getting warmer. Sam, just you shut that door to, and +throw on another log." + +Sam built up as large a fire as could be made under a very +large kettle that hung in the chimney. When Ellen came down in +her wrapper, she was established close in the chimney corner; +and when Mr. Van Brunt, not thinking her quite safe from the +keen currents of air that would find their way into the room, +despatched Sam for an old buffalo robe that lay in the shed. +This he himself with great care wrapped round her, feet and +chair and all, and secured it in various places with old +forks. He declared then she looked for all the world like an +Indian, except her face; and, in high good-humour both, he +went to cutting up the pork, and Ellen from out of her buffalo +robe watched him. + +It was beautifully done. Even Ellen could see that, although +she could not have known if it had been done ill. The knife, +guided by strength and skill, seemed to go with the greatest +ease and certainty just where he wished it; the hams were +beautifully trimmed out; the pieces fashioned clean; no ragged +cutting; and his quick-going knife disposed of carcass after +carcass with admirable neatness and celerity. Sam meanwhile +arranged the pieces in different parcels at his direction, and +minded the kettle, in which a great boiling and scumming was +going on. Ellen was too much amused for a while to ask any +questions. When the cutting up was all done, the hams and +shoulders were put in a cask by themselves, and Mr. Van Brunt +began to pack down the other pieces in the kits, strewing them +with an abundance of salt. + +"What's the use of putting all that salt with the pork, Mr. +Van Brunt?" said Ellen. + +"It wouldn't keep good without that; it would spoil very +quick." + +"Will the salt make it keep?" + +"All the year round as sweet as a nut." + +"I wonder what is the reason of that," said Ellen. "Will salt +make everything keep good?" + +"Everything in the world if it only has enough of it, and is +kept dry and cool." + +"Are you going to do the hams in the same way?" + +"No; they're to go in that pickle over the fire." + +"In this kettle? what is in it?" said Ellen. + +"You must ask Miss Fortune about that; sugar, and salt, and +saltpetre, and molasses, and I don't know what all." + +"And will this make the hams so different from the rest of the +pork?" + +"No; they've got to be smoked after they have laid in that for +a while." + +"Smoked!" said Ellen; "how?" + +"Why, han't you been in the smoke-house? The hams has to be +taken out of the pickle and hung up there! and then we make a +little fire of oak chips, and keep it burning night and day." + +"And how long must they stay in the smoke?" + +"Oh, three or four weeks or so." + +"And then they are done?" + +"Then they are done." + +"How very curious?" said Ellen. "Then it's the smoke that +gives them that nice taste? I never knew smoke was good for +anything before." + +"Ellen!" said the voice of Miss Fortune, from the top of the +stairs "come right up here, this minute! you'll catch your +death!" + +Ellen's countenance fell. + +"There's no sort of fear of that, Maam," said Mr. Van Brunt, +quietly; "and Miss Ellen is fastened up so, she can't get +loose; and I can't let her out just now." + +The upper door was shut again pretty sharply, but that was the +only audible expression of opinion with which Miss Fortune +favoured them. + +"I guess my leather curtains keep off the wind, don't they?" +said Mr. Van Brunt. + +"Yes, indeed they do," said Ellen; "I don't feel a breath; I +am as warm as a toast too warm, almost. How nicely you have +fixed me up, Mr. Van Brunt!" + +"I thought that 'ere old buffalo had done its work," he said; +"but I'll never say anything is good for nothing again. Have +you found out where the apples are, yet?" + +"No," said Ellen. + +"Han't Miss Fortune showed you? Well, it's time you'd know. +Sam, take that little basket and go fill it at the bin; I +guess you know where they be, for I believe you put 'em +there." + +Sam went into the cellar, and presently returned with the +basket nicely filled. He handed it to Ellen. + +"Are all these for me?" she said in surprise. + +"Every one on 'em," said Mr. Van Brunt. + +"But I don't like to," said Ellen; "what will Aunt Fortune +say?" + +"She won't say a word," said Mr. Van Brunt; "and don't you say +a word neither, but whenever you want apples, just go to the +bin and take 'em. I give you leave. It's right at the end of +the far cellar, at the left-hand corner; there are the bins +and all sorts of apples in 'em. You've got a pretty variety +there, han't you?" + +"Oh! all sorts," said Ellen "and what beauties! and I love +apples very much red, and yellow, and speckled, and green +what a great monster!" + +"That's a Swar; that ain't as good as most of the others; +those are Seek-no-furthers." + +"Seek-no-further!" said Ellen; "what a funny name. It ought to +be a mighty good apple. _I_ shall seek no further, at any rate. +What is this?" + +"That's as good an apple as you've got in the basket; that's a +real Orson pippin a very fine kind. I'll fetch you some up +from home some day, though, that are better than the best of +these." + +The pork was all packed; the kettle was lifted off the fire; +Mr. Van Brunt was wiping his hands from the salt. + +"And now, I suppose I must go," said Ellen, with a little +sigh. + +"Why, _I_ must go," said he; "so I suppose I may as well let you +out of your tent first." + +"I have had such a nice time," said Ellen; "I had got so tired +of doing nothing up-stairs. I am _very_ much obliged to you, Mr. +Van Brunt. But," said she, stopping as she had taken up her +basket to go, "aren't you going to put the hams in the +pickle?" + +"No," said he, laughing, "it must wait to get cold first. But +you'll make a capital farmer's wife, there's no mistake." + +Ellen blushed, and ran up stairs with her apples. To bestow +them safely in her closet was her first care; the rest of the +morning was spent in increasing weariness and listlessness. +She had brought down her little hymn-book, thinking to amuse +herself with learning a hymn, but it would not do; eyes and +head both refused their part of the work; and when at last Mr. +Van Brunt came in to a late dinner, he found Ellen seated flat +on the hearth before the fire, her right arm curled round the +hard wooden bottom of one of the chairs, and her head pillowed +upon that, fast asleep. + +"Bless my soul!" said Mr. Van Brunt, "what's become of that +'ere rocking-cheer?" + +"It's upstairs, I suppose. You can fetch it if you've a mind +to," answered Miss Fortune, drily enough. + +He did so immediately; and Ellen barely waked up to feel +herself lifted from the floor, and placed in the friendly +rocking-chair; Mr. Van Brunt remarking, at the same time, that +"it might be well enough to let well folks lie on the floor +and sleep on cheers, but cushions warn't a bit too soft for +sick ones." + +Among the cushions Ellen went to sleep again with a much +better prospect of rest; and either sleeping or dozing, passed +away the time for a good while. + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +How Miss Fortune went out and pleasure came in. + + +She was thoroughly roused at last by the slamming of the +house-door after her aunt. She and Mr. Van Brunt had gone +forth on their sleighing expedition, and Ellen waked to find +herself quite alone. + +She could not have doubted that her aunt was away, even if she +had not caught a glimpse of her bonnet going out of the shed +door the stillness was so uncommon. No such quiet could be +with Miss Fortune anywhere about the premises. The old +grandmother must have been abed and asleep, too, for a cricket +under the hearth, and the wood fire in the chimney, had it all +to themselves, and made the only sounds that were heard; the +first singing out every now and then in a very contented and +cheerful style, and the latter giving occasional little snaps +and sparks, that just served to make one take notice how very +quickly and steadily it was burning. + +Miss Fortune had left the room put up in the last extreme of +neatness. Not a speck of dust could be supposed to lie on the +shining painted floor; the back of every chair was in its +place against the wall. The very hearth-stones shone, and the +heads of the large iron nails in the floor were polished to +steel. Ellen sat a while listening to the soothing chirrup of +the cricket, and the pleasant crackling of the flames. It was +a fine, cold winter's day. The two little windows at the far +end of the kitchen looked out upon an expanse of snow; and the +large lilac-bush that grew close by the wall, moved lightly by +the wind, drew its icy fingers over the panes of glass. Wintry +it was without, but that made the warmth and comfort within +seem all the more. Ellen would have enjoyed it very much if +she had had any one to talk to; as it was, she felt rather +lonely and sad. She had begun to learn a hymn; but it had set +her off upon a long train of thought; and with her head +resting on her hand, her fingers pressed into her cheek, the +other hand with the hymn-book lying listlessly in her lap, and +eyes staring into the fire, she was sitting the very picture +of meditation, when the door opened, and Alice Humphreys came +in. Ellen started up. + +"Oh, I'm so glad to see you! I'm all alone." + +"Left alone, are you?" said Alice, as Ellen's warm lips were +pressed again and again to her cold cheeks. + +"Yes, aunt Fortune's gone out. Come and sit down here in the +rocking-chair. How cold you are! Oh, do you know she is going +to have a great bee here Monday evening? What is a _bee?_" + +Alice smiled. "Why," said she, "when people here in the +country have so much of any kind of work to do that their own +hands are not enough for it, they send and call in their +neighbours to help them that's a bee. A large party in the +course of a long evening can do a great deal." + +"But why do they call it a _bee?_" + +"I don't know, unless they mean to be like a hive of bees for +the time. 'As busy as a bee,' you know." + +"Then they ought to call it a hive, and not a bee, I should +think. Aunt Fortune is going to ask sixteen people. I wish you +were coming!" + +"How do you know but I am?" + +"Oh, I know you aren't. Aunt Fortune isn't going to ask you." + +"You are sure of that, are you?" + +"Yes, I wish I wasn't. Oh, how she vexed me this morning by +something she said!" + +"You mustn't get vexed so easily, my child. Don't let every +little untowards thing roughen your temper." + +"But I couldn't help it, dear Miss Alice; it was about you. I +don't know whether I ought to tell you; but I don't think +you'll mind it, and I know it isn't true. She said she didn't +want you to come because you were one of the proud set." + +"And what did _you_ say?" + +"Nothing. I had it just on the end of my tongue to say, 'It's +no such thing;' but I didn't say it." + +"I am glad you were so wise. Dear Ellen, that is nothing to be +vexed about. If it were true, indeed, you might be sorry. I +trust Miss Fortune is mistaken. I shall try and find some way +to make her change her mind. I am glad you told me." + +"I am _so_ glad you are come, dear Alice!" said Ellen again. "I +wish I could have you always!" And the long, very close +pressure of her two arms about her friend, said as much. There +was a long pause. The cheek of Alice rested on Ellen's head, +which nestled against her; both were busily thinking, but +neither spoke; and the cricket chirped, and the flames +crackled, without being listened to. + +"Miss Alice," said Ellen, after a long time "I wish you +would talk over a hymn with me." + +"How do you mean, my dear?" said Alice, rousing herself. + +"I mean, read it over and explain it. Mamma used to do it +sometimes. I have been thinking a great deal about her to-day; +and I think I'm very different from what I ought to be. I wish +you would talk to me, and make me better, Miss Alice." + +Alice pressed an earnest kiss upon the tearful little face +that was uplifted to her, and presently said + +"I am afraid I shall be a poor substitute for your mother, +Ellen. What hymn shall we take?" + +"Any one this one, if you like. Mamma likes it very much. I +was looking it over to-day: + + +'A charge to keep I have, +A God to glorify; +A never-dying soul to save +And fit it for the sky.' " + + +Alice read the first line, and paused. + +"There, now," said Ellen "what is a charge?" + +"Don't you know that?" + +"I think I do, but I wish you would tell me." + +"Try to tell me first." + +"Isn't it something that is given to one to do? I don't know +exactly." + +"It is something given one in trust to be done, or taken care +of. I remember very well once, when I was about your age, my +mother had occasion to go out for half an hour, and she left +me in charge of my little baby sister; she gave me a _charge_ +not to let anything disturb her while she was away, and to +keep her asleep if I could. And I remember how I kept my +charge, too. I was not to take her out of the cradle, but I +sat beside her the whole time; I would not suffer a fly to +light on her little fair cheek; I scarcely took my eyes from +her; I made John keep pussy at a distance; and whenever one of +the little, round, dimpled arms was thrown out upon the +coverlet, I carefully drew something over it again." + +"Is she dead?" said Ellen, timidly, her eyes watering in +sympathy with Alice's. + +"She is dead, my dear; she died before we left England." + +"I understand what a charge is," said Ellen, after a little; +"but what is this charge the hymn speaks of? What charge have +I to keep?" + +"The hymn goes on to tell you. The next line gives you part of +it. 'A God to glorify.' " + +"To glorify?" said Ellen, doubtfully. + +"Yes, that is, to honour to give him all the honour that +belongs to him." + +"But can _I_ honour _Him?_" + +"Most certainly; either honour or dishonour; you cannot help +doing one." + +"I!" said Ellen, again. + +"Must not your behaviour speak either well or ill for the +mother who has brought you up?" + +"Yes, I know that." + +"Very well; when a child of God lives as he ought to do, +people cannot help having high and noble thoughts of that +glorious One whom he serves, and of that perfect law he obeys. +Little as they may love the ways of religion in their own +secret hearts, they _cannot help_ confessing that there is a +God, and that they ought to serve him. But a worldling, and +still more, an unfaithful Christian, just helps people to +forget there is such a Being, and makes them think either that +religion is a sham, or that they may safely go on despising +it. I have heard it said, Ellen, that Christians are the only +Bible some people ever read; and it is true; all they know of +religion is what they get from the lives of its professors; +and oh! were the world but full of the right kind of example, +the kingdom of darkness could not stand. 'Arise, shine!' is a +word that every Christian ought to take home." + +"But how can I shine?" asked Ellen. + +"My dear Ellen in the faithful, patient, self-denying +performance of every duty as it comes to hand 'Whatsoever +thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.' " + +"It is very little that I can do," said Ellen. + +"Perhaps more than you think but never mind that. All are +not great stars in the church; you may be only a little +rushlight see you burn well." + +"I remember," said Ellen, musing, "Mamma once told me, when I +was going somewhere, that people would think strangely of _her_ +if I didn't behave well." + +"Certainly. Why, Ellen, I formed an opinion of her very soon +after I saw you." + +"Did you?" said Ellen, with a wonderfully brightened face +"what was it? was it good? ah! do tell me!" + +"I am not quite sure of the wisdom of that," said Alice, +smiling: "you might take home the praise that is justly her +right and not yours." + +"Oh no, indeed," said Ellen; "I had rather she should have it +than I. Please tell me what you thought of her, dear Alice I +know it was good, at any rate." + +"Well, I will tell you," said Alice, "at all risks. I thought +your mother was a lady, from the honourable notions she had +given you; and, from your ready obedience to her, which was +evidently the obedience of love, I judged she had been a good +mother in the true sense of the term. I thought she must be a +refined and cultivated person, from the manner of your speech +and behaviour; and I was sure she was a Christian, because she +had taught you the truth, and evidently had tried to lead you +in it." + +The quivering face of delight with which Ellen began to listen +gave way, long before Alice had done, to a burst of tears. + +"It makes me so glad to hear you say that!" she said. + +"The praise of it is your mother's, you know, Ellen." + +"I know it but you make me so glad!" And hiding her face in +Alice's lap, she fairly sobbed. + +"You understand now, don't you, how Christians may honour or +dishonour their Heavenly Father?" + +"Yes, I do; but it makes me afraid to think of it." + +"Afraid! It ought rather to make you glad. It is a great +honour and happiness for us to be permitted to honour Him + + +'A never-dying soul to save +And fit it for the sky.' + + +Yes that is the great duty you owe yourself. Oh, never +forget it, dear Ellen! And whatever would hinder you, have +nothing to do with it. 'What shall it profit a man though he +gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?' + + +'To serve the present age, +My calling to fulfil ' " + + +"What is 'the present age?' " said Ellen. + +"All the people who are living in the world at this time." + +"But, dear Alice, what can I do to the present age?" + +"Nothing to the most part of them, certainly; and yet, dear +Ellen, if your little rushlight shines well, there is just so +much the less darkness in the world though perhaps you light +only a very little corner. Every Christian is a blessing to +the world another grain of salt to go towards sweetening and +saving the mass." + +"That is very pleasant to think of," said Ellen, musing. + +"Oh, if we were but full of love to our Saviour, how pleasant +it would be to do anything for him! how many ways we should +find of honouring him by doing good." + +"I wish you would tell me some of the ways that I can do it," +said Ellen. + +"You will find them fast enough if you seek them, Ellen. No +one is so poor or so young but he has one talent at least to +use for God." + +"I wish I knew what mine is," said Ellen. + +"Is your daily example as perfect as it can be?" + +Ellen was silent, and shook her head. + +"Christ pleased not himself, and went about doing good; and he +said, 'If any man serve me, let him _follow me_.' Remember that. +Perhaps your aunt is unreasonable and unkind see with how +much patience and perfect sweetness of temper you can bear and +forbear; see if you cannot win her over by untiring +gentleness, obedience, and meekness. Is there no improvement +to be made here?" + +"Oh me, yes!" answered Ellen, with a sigh. + +"Then your old grandmother. Can you do nothing to cheer her +life in her old age and helplessness? can't you find some way +of giving her pleasure some way of amusing a long and +tedious hour, now and then?" + +Ellen looked very grave; in her inmost heart she knew this was +a duty she shrank from. + +"He 'went about doing good.' Keep that in mind. A kind word +spoken a little thing to smooth the way of one, or lighten +the load of another teaching those who need teaching +entreating those who are walking in the wrong way. Oh! my +child, there is work enough! + + +'To serve the present age, +My calling to fulfil; +Oh, may it all my powers engage +To do my Maker's will! + + +Arm me with jealous care, +As in thy sight to live; +And oh! thy servant, Lord, prepare, +A strict account to give!' " + + +"An account of what?" said Ellen. + +"You know what an account is. If I give Thomas a dollar to +spend for me at Carra-carra, I expect he will give me an exact +_account_, when he comes back, what he has done with every +shilling of it. So must we give an account of what we have +done with everything our Lord has committed to our care our +hands, our tongues, our time, our minds, our influence; how +much we have honoured him, how much good we have done to +others, how fast and how far we have grown holy and fit for +heaven." + +"It almost frightens me to hear you talk, Miss Alice." + +"Not _frighten_, dear Ellen that is not the word; _sober_ we +ought to be mindful to do nothing we shall not wish to +remember in the great day of account. Do you recollect how +that day is described? Where is your Bible?" + +She opened at the 20th chapter of Revelation. + +"And I saw a great white throne, and him that sat on it, from +whose face the earth and the heaven flew away; and there was +found no place for them. + +"And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God: and +the books were opened; and another book was opened, which is +the book of life; and the dead were judged out of those things +which were written in the books, according to their works. And +the sea gave up the dead which were in it; and death and hell +delivered up the dead which were in them: and they were judged +every man according to their works. And death and hell were +cast into the lake of fire. This is the second death. + +"And whosoever was not found written in the book of life was +cast into the lake of fire." + +Ellen shivered. "That is dreadful!" she said. + +"It will be a dreadful day to all but those whose names are +written in the Lamb's book of life; not dreadful to them, +dear Ellen." + +"But how shall I be sure, dear Alice, that _my_ name is written +there? and I can't be happy if I am not sure." + +"My dear child," said Alice, tenderly, as Ellen's anxious face +and glistening eyes were raised to hers, "if you love Jesus +Christ, you may know you are his child, and none shall pluck +you out of his hand." + +"But how can I tell whether I do love him really? Sometimes I +think I do, and then again sometimes I am afraid I don't at +all." + +Alice answered in the words of Christ: "He that hath my +commandments and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me." + +"Oh, I don't keep his commandments!" said Ellen, the tears +running down her cheeks. + +"_Perfectly_, none of us do. But, dear Ellen, _that_ is not the +question. Is your heart's desire and effort to keep them? Are +you grieved when you fail? There is the point. You cannot love +Christ without loving to please him." + +Ellen rose, and putting both arms round Alice's neck, laid her +head there, as her manner sometimes was, tears flowing fast. + +"I sometimes think I do love him a little," she said; "but I +do so many wrong things. But he will teach me to love him if I +ask him, won't he, dear Alice?" + +"Indeed he will, dear Ellen," said Alice, folding her arms +round her little adopted sister "_indeed_ he will. He has +promised that. Remember what he told somebody who was almost +in despair 'Fear not; only believe.' " + +Alice's neck was wet with Ellen's tears; and after they had +ceased to flow, her arms kept their hold, and her head its +resting-place on Alice's shoulder for some time. It was +necessary at last for Alice to leave her. + +Ellen waited till the sound of her horse's footsteps died away +on the road; and then, sinking on her knees beside her +rocking-chair, she poured forth her whole heart in prayers and +tears. She confessed many a fault and short-coming that none +knew but herself; and most earnestly besought help that "her +little rushlight might shine bright." Prayer was to little +Ellen what it is to all that know it the satisfying of +doubt, the soothing of care, the quieting of trouble. She had +knelt down very uneasy; but she knew that God has promised to +be the hearer of prayer, and she rose up very comforted, her +mind fixing on those most sweet words Alice had brought to her +memory "Fear not, only believe." When Miss Fortune returned, +Ellen was quietly asleep again in her rocking-chair, with a +face very pale, but calm as an evening sunbeam. + +"Well, I declare if that child ain't sleeping her life away!" +said Miss Fortune. "She's slept this whole blessed forenoon; I +suppose she'll want to be alive and dancing the whole night, +to pay for it." + +"I can tell you what she'll want a sight more," said Mr. Van +Brunt, who had followed her in it must have been to see +about Ellen, for he was never known to do such a thing before +or since "I'll tell you what she'll want, and that's a right +hot supper. She's ate as nigh as possible nothing at all this +noon. There ain't much danger of her dancing a hole in your +floor this some time." + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +Sweeping and dusting. + + +Great preparations were making all Saturday and Monday for the +expected gathering. From morning till night Miss Fortune was +in a perpetual bustle. The great oven was heated no less than +three several times on Saturday alone. Ellen could hear the +breaking of eggs in the buttery, and the sound of beating or +whisking, for a long time together; and then Miss Fortune +would come out with floury hands, and plates of empty egg- +shells made their appearance. But Ellen saw no more. Whenever +the coals were swept out of the oven, and Miss Fortune had +made sure that the heat was just right for her purposes, Ellen +was sent out of the way, and when she got back there was +nothing to be seen but the fast-shut oven door. It was just +the same when the dishes, in all their perfection, were to +come out of the oven again. The utmost Ellen was permitted to +see was the napkin covering some stray cake or pie that by +chance had to pass through the kitchen where she was. + +As she could neither help nor look on, the day passed rather +wearily. She tried studying; a very little, she found, was +enough to satisfy both mind and body in their present state. +She longed to go out again and see how the snow looked, but a +fierce wind all the fore part of the day made it unfit for +her. Towards the middle of the afternoon she saw with joy that +it had lulled, and, though very cold, was so bright and calm, +that she might venture. She had eagerly opened the kitchen +door to go up and get ready, when a long weary yawn from her +old grandmother made her look back. The old lady had laid her +knitting in her lap, and bent her face down to her hand, which +she was rubbing across her brow, as if to clear away the tired +feeling that had settled there. Ellen's conscience immediately +brought up Alice's words "Can't you do something to pass +away a tedious hour now and then?" The first feeling was of +vexed regret that they should have come into her head at that +moment; then conscience said that was very selfish. There was +a struggle. Ellen stood with the door in her hand, unable to +go out or come in. But not long. As the words came back upon +her memory "A charge to keep I have" her mind was made up; +after one moment's prayer for help and forgiveness, she shut +the door, came back to the fireplace, and spoke in a cheerful +tone + +"Grandma, wouldn't you like to have me read something to you?" + +"Read!" answered the old lady "laws a me! _I_ don't read +nothing, deary." + +"But wouldn't you like to have _me_ read to you, Grandma?" + +The old lady, in answer to this, laid down her knitting, +folded both arms around Ellen, and, kissing her a great many +times, declared she should like anything that came out of that +sweet little mouth. As soon as she was set free, Ellen brought +her Bible, sat down close beside her, and read chapter after +chapter; rewarded even then by seeing that, though her +grandmother said nothing, she was listening with fixed +attention, bending down over her knitting as if in earnest +care to catch every word. And when at last she stopped, warned +by certain noises downstairs that her aunt would presently be +bustling in, the old lady again hugged her close to her bosom, +kissing her forehead and cheeks and lips, and declaring that +she was "a great deal sweeter than any sugar-plums;" and Ellen +was very much surprised to feel her face wet with a tear from +her grandmother's cheek. Hastily kissing her again (for the +first time in her life), she ran out of the room, her own +tears starting, and her heart swelling big. "Oh! how much +pleasure," she thought, "I might have given my poor Grandma, +and how I have let her alone all this while! How wrong I have +been! But it shan't be so in future!" + +It was not quite sundown, and Ellen thought she might yet have +two or three minutes in the open air. So she wrapped up very +warm and went out to the chip-yard. + +Ellen's heart was very light; she had just been fulfilling a +duty that cost her a little self-denial, and the reward had +already come; and now it seemed to her that she had never seen +anything so perfectly beautiful as the scene before her the +brilliant snow that lay in a thick carpet over all the fields +and hills, and the pale streaks of sunlight stretching across +it between the long shadows that reached now from the barn to +the house. One moment the light tinted the snow-capped fences +and whitened barn-roofs; then the lights and the shadows +vanished together, and it was all one cold, dazzling white. +"Oh, how glorious!" Ellen almost shouted to herself. It was +too cold to stand still; she ran to the barnyard to see the +cows milked. There they were all her old friends Streaky +and Dolly, and Jane and Sukey, and Betty Flynn sleek and +contented; winter and summer were all the same to them. And +Mr. Van Brunt was very glad to see her there again, and Sam +Larkens and Johnny Low looked as if they were too, and Ellen +told them with great truth she was very glad indeed to be +there; and then she went in to supper with Mr. Van Brunt and +an amazing appetite. + +That was Saturday. Sunday passed quietly, though Ellen could +not help suspecting it was not entirely a day of rest to her +aunt; there was a savoury smell of cooking in the morning, +which nothing that came on the table by any means accounted +for; and Miss Fortune was scarcely to be seen the whole day. + +With Monday morning began a grand bustle, and Ellen was well +enough now to come in for her share. The kitchen, parlour, +hall, shed, and lower kitchen, must all be thoroughly swept +and dusted; this was given to her, and a morning's work pretty +near she found it. Then she had to rub bright all the brass +handles of the doors, and the big brass andirons in the +parlour, and the brass candlesticks on the parlour mantel- +piece. When at last she got through, and came to the fire to +warm herself, she found her grandmother lamenting that her +snuff-box was empty, and asking her daughter to fill it for +her. + +"Oh! I can't be bothered to be running upstairs to fill snuff- +boxes," answered that lady; "you'll have to wait." + +"I'll get it, Grandma," said Ellen, "if you'll tell me where." + +"Sit down, and be quiet!" said Miss Fortune; "you go into my +room just when I bid you, and not till then." + +Ellen sat down. But no sooner was Miss Fortune hid in the +buttery, than the old lady beckoned her to her side, and +nodding her head a great many times, gave her the box, saying, +softly + +"You can run up now; she won't see you, deary. It's in a jar +in the closet. Now's the time." + +Ellen could not bear to say no. She hesitated a minute, and +then boldly opened the buttery door. + +"Keep out! what do you want?" + +"She wanted me to go for the snuff," said Ellen, in a whisper; +"please, do let me I won't look at anything, nor touch +anything, but just get the snuff." + +With an impatient gesture, her aunt snatched the box from her +hand, pushed Ellen out of the buttery, and shut the door. The +old lady kissed and fondled her, as if she had done what she +had only tried to do; smoothed down her hair, praising its +beauty, and whispered + +"Never mind, deary you'll read to Grandma, won't you?" + +It cost Ellen no effort now. With the beginning of kind +offices to her poor old parent, kind feeling had sprung up +fast; instead of disliking and shunning, she had begun to love +her. + +There was no dinner for any one this day. Mr. and Mrs. Van +Brunt came to an early tea; after which, Ellen was sent to +dress herself, and Mr. Van Brunt to get some pieces of board +for the meat-choppers. He came back presently with an armful +of square bits of wood; and sitting down before the fire, +began to whittle the rough sawn ends over the hearth. His +mother grew nervous. Miss Fortune bore it as she would have +borne it from no one else, but vexation was gathering in her +breast for the first occasion. Presently, Ellen's voice was +heard singing down the stairs. + +"I'd give something to stop that child's pipe!" said Miss +Fortune; "she's eternally singing the same thing over and over + something about 'a charge to keep' I'd a good notion to +give her a charge to keep this morning; it would have been to +hold her tongue." + +"That would have been a public loss, _I_ think," said Mr. Van +Brunt, gravely. + +"Well, you _are_ making a precious litter!" said the lady, +turning short upon him. + +"Never mind," said he, in the same tone "it's nothing but +what the fire'll burn up, anyhow; don't worry yourself about +it." + +Just as Ellen came in, so did Nancy by the other door. + +"What are you here for?" said Miss, Fortune with an ireful +face. + +"Oh, come to see the folks, and get some peaches," said Nancy; + "come to help along, to be sure." + +"Ain't your Grandma coming?" + +"No, Maam, she ain't. I knew she wouldn't be of much use, so +I thought I wouldn't ask her." + +Miss Fortune immediately ordered her out. Half-laughing, half +serious, Nancy tried to keep her ground, but Miss Fortune was +in no mood to hear parleying. She laid violent hands on the +passive Nancy, and between pulling and pushing, at last got +her out and shut the door. Her next sudden move was to haul +off her mother to bed. Ellen looked her sorrow at this, and +Mr. Van Brunt whistled _his_ thoughts; but that either made +nothing, or made Miss Fortune more determined. Off she went, +with her old mother under her arm. While she was gone, Ellen +brought the broom to sweep up the hearth, but Mr. Van Brunt +would not let her. + +"No," said he; "it's more than you nor I can do. You know," +said he, with a sly look, "we might sweep up the shavings into +the wrong corner!" + +This entirely overset Ellen's gravity, and unluckily she could +not get it back again, even though warned by Mrs. Van Brunt +that her aunt was coming. Trying only made it worse, and Miss +Fortune's entrance was but the signal for a fresh burst of +hearty merriment. What she was laughing at, was of course +instantly asked, in no pleased tone of voice. Ellen could not +tell; and her silence and blushing only made her aunt more +curious. + +"Come, leave bothering her," said Mr. Van Brunt, at last; "she +was only laughing at some of my nonsense, and she won't tell +on me." + +"Will you swear to that?" said the lady, sharply. + +"Humph! no, I won't swear; unless you will go before a +magistrate with me; but it is true." + +"I wonder if you think I am as easy blinded as all that comes +to!" said Miss Fortune, scornfully. + +And Ellen saw that her aunt's displeasure was all gathered +upon her for the evening. She was thinking of Alice's words, +and trying to arm herself with patience and gentleness, when +the door opened, and in walked Nancy as demurely as if nobody +had ever seen her before. + +"Miss Fortune, granny sent me to tell you she is sorry she +can't come to-night; she don't think it would do for her to be +out so late; she's a little touch of the rheumatics, she +says." + +"Very well," said Miss Fortune. "Now, clear out." + +"You had better not say so, Miss Fortune; I'll do as much for +you as any two of the rest see if I don't!" + +"I don't care if you did as much as fifty!" said Miss +Fortune impatiently. "I won't have you here; so go, or I'll +give you something to help you along." + +Nancy saw she had no chance with Miss Fortune in her present +humour, and went quickly out. A little while after, Ellen was +standing at the window, from which, through the shed window, +she had a view of the chip-yard, and there she saw Nancy +lingering still, walking round and round in a circle, and +kicking the snow with her feet in a discontented fashion. + +"I am very glad she isn't going to be here," thought Ellen. +"But, poor thing! I dare say she is very much disappointed. +And how sorry she will feel going back all that long, long way +home! What if I should get her leave to stay? wouldn't it be a +fine way of returning good for evil? But, O dear! I don't want +her here! But that's no matter " + +The next minute, Mr. Van Brunt was half startled by Ellen's +hand on his shoulder, and the softest of whispers in his ear. +He looked up, very much surprised. + +"Why, do _you_ want her?" said he, likewise in a low tone. + +"No," said Ellen, "but I know I should feel very sorry if I +was in her place." + +Mr. Van Brunt whistled quietly to himself. "Well!" said he, +"you _are_ a good-natured piece." + +"Miss Fortune," said he, presently, "if that mischievous girl +comes in again, I recommend you to let her stay." + +"Why?" + +" 'Cause it's true what she said she'll do you as much good +as half-a-dozen. She'll behave herself this evening, I'll +engage, or, if she don't, I'll make her." + +"She's too impudent to live! But I don't care her +grandmother is another sort; but I guess she is gone by this +time." + +Ellen waited only till her aunt's back was turned. She slipped +down stairs and out at the kitchen door, and ran up the slope +to the fence of the chip-yard. + +"Nancy! Nancy!" + +"What?" said Nancy, wheeling about. + +"If you go in now, I guess Aunt Fortune will let you stay." + +"What makes you think so?" said the other, surlily. + +" 'Cause Mr.Van Brunt was speaking to her about it. Go in and +you'll see." + +Nancy looked doubtfully at Ellen's face, and then ran hastily +in. More slowly Ellen went back by the way she came. When she +reached the upper kitchen she found Nancy as busy as possible + as much at home already as if she had been there all day; +helping to set the table in the hall, and going to and fro +between that and the buttery with an important face. Ellen was +not suffered to help, nor even to stand and see what was +doing; so she sat down in the corner, by her old friend Mrs. +Van Brunt, and with her head in her lap watched, by the fire- +light, the busy figures that went back and forward, and Mr. +Van Brunt, who still sat working at his bits of board. There +were pleasant thoughts in Ellen's head, that kept the dancing +blaze company. Mr. Van Brunt once looked up, and asked her +what she was smiling at; the smile brightened at his question, +but he got no more answer. + +At last the supper was all set out in the hall, so that it +could very easily be brought into the parlour when the time +came; the waiter, with the best cups and saucers, which always +stood covered with a napkin on the table in the front room, +was carried away; the great pile of wood in the parlour fire +place, built ever since morning, was kindled; all was in +apple-pie order, and nothing was left but to sweep up the +shavings that Mr. Van Brunt had made. This was done; and then +Nancy seized hold of Ellen. + +"Come along," said she, pulling her to the window "come +along, and let us watch the folks come in." + +"But it isn't time for them to be here yet," said Ellen; "the +fire is only just burning." + +"Fiddle-de-dee! they won't wait for the fire to burn, I can +tell you. They'll be along directly, some of them. I wonder +what Miss Fortune is thinking of that fire had ought to have +been burning this long time ago but they won't set to work +till they all get here, that's one thing. Do you know what's +going to be for supper?" + +"No." + +"Not a bit?" + +"No." + +"Ain't that funny! Then I'm better off than you. I say, Ellen, +any one would think _I_ was Miss Fortune's niece, and you was +somebody else, wouldn't they? Goodness! I'm glad I ain't. I am +going to make part of the supper myself what do you think of +that? Miss Fortune always has grand suppers when she has 'em +at all; 'tain't very often, that's one thing. I wish she'd +have a bee every week, I know, and let me come and help. Hark! + didn't I tell you? there's somebody coming this minute; +don't you hear the sleigh-bells? I'll tell you who it is now; +it's the Lawsons you see if it ain't. It's good it's such a +bright night we can see 'em first-rate. There here they come + just as I told you here's Mimy Lawson the first one if +there's anybody I do despise, it's Mimy Lawson." + +"Hush!" said Ellen. The door opened, and the lady herself +walked in, followed by three others large, tall women, +muffled from head to foot against the cold. The quiet kitchen +was speedily changed into a scene of bustle. Loud talking and +laughing a vast deal of unrobing pushing back and pulling +up chairs on the hearth and Nancy and Ellen running in and +out of the room with countless wrappers, cloaks, shawls, +comforters, hoods, mittens, and moccasins. + +"What a precious muss it will be to get 'em all their own +things when they come to go away again," said Nancy. "Throw +'em all down there, Ellen, in that heap. Now, come quick +somebody else'll be here directly." + +"Which is Miss Mimy?" said Ellen. + +"That big ugly woman in a purple frock. The one next her is +Kitty the black-haired one is Mary, and t'other is Fanny. +Ugh! don't look at 'em; I can't bear 'em." + +"Why?" + +" 'Cause I don't, I can tell you; reason good. They are as +stingy as they can live. Their way is to get as much as they +can out of other folks, and let other folks get as little as +they can out of them. I know 'em. Just watch that purple frock +when it comes to the eating. There's Mr. Bob." + +"Mr. who?" + +"Bob Bob Lawson. He's a precious small young man, for such a +big one. There go take his hat. Miss Fortune," said Nancy, +coming forward, "mayn't the gentlemen take care of their own +things in the stoop, or must the young ladies wait upon them, +too? t'other room won't hold everything neither." + +This speech raised a general laugh, in the midst of which Mr. +Bob carried his own hat and cloak into the shed, as desired. +Before Nancy had done chuckling came another arrival a tall, +lank gentleman, with one of those unhappy-shaped faces that +are very broad at the eyes and very narrow across the chops, +and having a particularly grave and dull expression. He was +welcomed with such a shout of mingled laughter, greeting, and +jesting, that the room was in a complete hurly-burly; and a +plain-looking, stout, elderly lady, who had come in just +behind him, was suffered to stand unnoticed. + +"It's Miss Janet," whispered Nancy "Mr. Marshchalk's aunt. +Nobody wants to see her here; she's one of your pious kind, +and that's a kind your aunt don't take to." + +Instantly Ellen was at her side, offering gently to relieve +her of hood and cloak, and with a tap on his arm drawing Mr. +Van Brunt's attention to the neglected person. + +Quite touched by the respectful politeness of her manner, the +old lady inquired of Miss Fortune, as Ellen went off with a +load of mufflers, "who was that sweet little thing?" + +"It's a kind of sweetmeats that is kept for company, Miss +Janet," replied Miss Fortune, with a darkened brow. + +"She's too good for everyday use, that's a fact," remarked Mr. +Van Brunt. + +Miss Fortune coloured and tossed her head, and the company +were for a moment still with surprise. Another arrival set +them agoing again. + +"Here come the Hitchcocks, Ellen," said Nancy. "Walk in, Miss +Mary walk in, Miss Jenny Mr. Marshchalk has been here this +great while." + +Miss Mary Hitchcock was in nothing remarkable. Miss Jenny, +when her wrappers were taken off, showed a neat, little, round +figure, and a round face of very bright and good-humoured +expression. It fastened Ellen's eye, till Nancy whispered her +to look at Mr. Juniper Hitchcock, and that young gentleman +entered, dressed in the last style of elegance. His hair was +arranged in a faultless manner unless, perhaps, it had a +_little_ too much of the tallow-candle; for when he had sat for +a while before the fire, it had somewhat the look of being +excessively wet with perspiration. His boots were as shiny as +his hair; his waistcoat was of a startling pattern; his +pantaloons were very tightly strapped down; and at the end of +a showy watch-riband hung some showy seals. + +The kitchen was now one buzz of talk and good-humour; Ellen +stood half-smiling to herself to see the universal smile, when +Nancy twitched her. + +"Here's more coming Cilly Dennison, I guess no, it's too +tall; _who_ is it?" + +But Ellen flung open the door with a half-uttered scream, and +threw herself into the arms of Alice, and then led her in; her +face full of such extreme joy, that it was perhaps one reason +why her aunt's wore a very doubtful air as she came forward. +That could not stand, however, against the graceful politeness +and pleasantness of Alice's greeting. Miss Fortune's brow +smoothed, her voice cleared, she told Miss Humphreys she was +very welcome and she meant it. Clinging close to her friend +as she went from one to another, Ellen was delighted to see +that everyone echoed the welcome. Every face brightened at +meeting hers, every eye softened, and Jenny Hitchcock even +threw her arms round Alice and kissed her. + +Ellen left now the window to Nancy, and stood fast by her +adopted sister, with a face of satisfaction it was pleasant to +see, watching her very lips as they moved. Soon the door +opened again, and various voices hailed the new-comer as +"Jane," "Jany," and "Jane Huff." She was a decidedly plain- +looking country girl; but when she came near, Ellen saw a +sober, sensible face, and a look of thorough good-nature, +which immediately ranked her next to Jenny Hitchcock in her +fancy. Mr. Bill Huff followed, a sturdy young man; quite as +plain, and hardly so sensible-looking; he was still more +shining with good-nature. He made no pretensions to the +elegance of Mr. Juniper Hitchcock; but, before the evening was +over, Ellen had a vastly greater respect for him. + +Last, not least, came the Dennisons; it took Ellen some time +to make up her mind about them. Miss Cilly, or Cecilia, was +certainly very elegant indeed. Her hair was in the extremest +state of nicety, with a little round curl plastered in front +of each ear; how she coaxed them to stay there, Ellen could +not conceive. She wore a real watch there was no doubt of +that and there was even a ring on one of her fingers, with +two or three blue or red stones in it. Her dress was smart, +and so was her figure, and her face was pretty; and Ellen +overheard one of the Lawsons whisper to Jenny Hitchcock that +"there wasn't a greater lady in the land than Cilly Dennison." +Her brother was very different; tall and athletic, and rather +handsome, _he_ made no pretensions to be a gentleman. He valued +his fine farming and fine cattle a great deal higher than +Juniper Hitchcock's gentility. + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +Shows what noise a bee can make when it gets into the house. + + +As the party were all gathered, it was time to set to work. +The fire in the front room was burning up finely now, but Miss +Fortune had no idea of having pork-chopping or apple-paring +done there. One party was despatched down-stairs into the +lower kitchen; the others made a circle round the fire. Every +one was furnished with a sharp knife, and a basket of apples +was given to each two or three. Now it would be hard to say +whether talking or working went on best. Not faster moved the +tongues than the fingers; not smoother went the knives than +the flow of talk; while there was a constant leaping of +quarters of apples from the hands that had prepared them into +the bowls, trays, or whatnot, that stood on the hearth to +receive them. Ellen had nothing to do: her aunt had managed it +so, though she would gladly have shared the work that looked +so pretty and pleasant in other people's hands. Miss Fortune +would not let her; so she watched the rest and amused herself +as well as she could with hearing and seeing; and standing +between Alice and Jenny Hitchcock, she handed them the apples +out of the basket as fast as they were ready for them. It was +a pleasant evening that. Laughing and talking went on merrily; +stories were told; anecdotes, gossip, jokes, passed from mouth +to mouth; and not one made himself so agreeable, or had so +much to do with the life and pleasure of the party, as Alice. +Ellen saw it, delighted. The pared apples kept dancing into +the bowls and trays; the baskets got empty surprisingly fast; +Nancy and Ellen had to run to the barrels in the shed again +for fresh supplies. + +"Do they mean to do all these to-night?" said Ellen to Nancy, +on one of these occasions. + +"I don't know what _they_ mean, I am sure," replied Nancy, +diving down into the barrel to reach the apples; "if you had +asked me what _Miss Fortune meant_, I might ha' given a guess." + +"But only look," said Ellen "only so many done, and all +these to do! Well, I know what 'busy as a bee' means now, if +I never did before." + +"You'll know it better to-morrow, I can tell you." + +"Why?" + +"Oh, wait till you see. I wouldn't be you to-morrow for +something, though. Do you like sewing?" + +"Sewing!" said Ellen. But "Girls! girls! what _are_ you +leaving the door open for!" sounded from the kitchen, and they +hurried in. + +" 'Most got through, Nancy?" inquired Bob Lawson. (Miss +Fortune had gone downstairs.) + +"Han't begun to, Mr. Lawson. There's every bit as many to do +as there was at your house t'other night." + +"What on airth does she want with such a sight of 'em," +inquired Dan Dennison. + +"Live on pies and apple-sass till next summer," suggested Mimy +Lawson. + +"That's the stuff for my money!" replied her brother; "taters +and apple-sass is my sass in the winter." + +"It's good those is easy got," said his sister Mary; "the sass +is the most of the dinner to Bob, most commonly." + +"Are they fixing for more apple-sass down-stairs?" Mr. +Dennison went on rather drily. + +"No hush!" said Juniper Hitchcock "sassages!" + +"Humph!" said Dan, as he speared up an apple out of the basket +on the point of his knife "ain't that something like what +you can call killing two" + +"Just that, exactly," said Jenny Hitchcock, as Dan broke off +short, and the mistress of the house walked in. "Ellen," she +whispered, "don't you want to go downstairs and see when the +folks are coming up to help us? And tell the doctor he must be +spry, for we ain't agoing to get through in a hurry," she +added, laughing. + +"Which is the doctor, Maam?" + +"The doctor! Doctor Marshchalk! don't you know?" + +"Is he a doctor?" said Alice. + +"No, not exactly, I suppose, but he's just as good as the +real. There was a man broke his leg horribly at Thirlwall, the +other day, and Gibson was out of the way, and Marshchalk set +it, and did it famously they said. So go, Ellen, and bring us +word what they are all about." + +Mr. Van Brunt was head of the party in the lower kitchen. He +stood at one end of the table, cutting, with his huge knife, +the hard-frozen pork into very thin slices, which the rest of +the company took, and, before they had time to thaw, cut up +into small dice on the little boards Mr. Van Brunt had +prepared. As large a fire as the chimney would hold was built +up and blazing finely; the room looked as cozy and bright as +the one upstairs, and the people as busy and as talkative. +They had less to do, however, or they had been more smart, for +they were drawing to the end of their chopping; of which Miss +Janet declared herself very glad, for, she said, "the wind +came sweeping in under the doors, and freezing her feet the +whole time, and she was sure the biggest fire ever was built +couldn't warm that room;" an opinion in which Mrs. Van Brunt +agreed perfectly. Miss Janet no sooner spied Ellen standing in +the chimney-corner, than she called her to her side, kissed +her, and talked to her a long time, and finally, fumbling in +her pocket, brought forth an old, little, three-cornered pin- +cushion, which she gave her for a keepsake. Jane Huff and her +brother also took kind notice of her; and Ellen began to think +the world was full of nice people. About half-past eight the +choppers went up and joined the company, who were paring +apples; the circle was a very large one now, and the buzz of +the tongues grew quite furious. + +"What are you smiling at?" asked Alice of Ellen, who stood at +her elbow. + +"Oh, I don't know," said Ellen, smiling more broadly; and +presently added "they're all so kind to me." + +"Who?" + +"Oh, everybody Miss Jenny, and Miss Jane Huff, and Miss +Janet, and Mrs. Van Brunt, and Mr. Huff they all speak so +kindly, and look so kindly at me. But it's very funny what a +notion people have for kissing I wish they hadn't I've run +away from three kisses already, and I'm so afraid somebody +else will try next." + +"You don't seem very bitterly displeased," said Alice, +smiling. + +"I am, though I can't bear it," said Ellen, laughing and +blushing. "There's Mr. Dennison caught me, in the first place, +and tried to kiss me, but I tried so hard to get away, I +believe he saw I was really in good earnest, and let me go. +And just now only think of it! while I was standing +talking to Miss Jane Huff, downstairs, her brother caught me, +and kissed me, before I knew what he was going to do. I +declare it's too bad!" said Ellen, rubbing her cheek very +hard, as if she would rub off the affront. + +"You must let it pass, my dear; it is one way of expressing +kindness. They feel kindly towards you, or they would not do +it." + +"Then I wish they wouldn't feel quite so kindly," said Ellen +"that's all. Hark! what was that?" + +"What is that?" said somebody else; and instantly there was +silence, broken again, after a minute or two, by the faint +blast of a horn. + +"It's old Father Swaim, I reckon," said Mr. Van Brunt; "I'll +go fetch him in." + +"Oh, yes! bring him in bring him in," was heard on all +sides. + +"That horn makes me think of what happened to me once," said +Jenny Hitchcock to Ellen. "I was a little girl at school, not +so big as you are; and one afternoon, when we were all as +still as mice, and studying away, we heard Father Swaim's horn +" + +"What does he blow it for?" said Ellen, as Jenny stooped for +her knife, which she had let fall. + +"Oh to let people know he's there, you know; did you never see +Father Swaim?" + +"No." + +"La! he's the funniest old fellow! He goes round and round the +country, carrying the news-papers; and we get him to bring our +letters from the post-office, when there are any. He carries +'em in a pair of saddle-bags hanging across that old white +horse of his I don't think that horse will ever grow old, no +more than his master; and in summer he has a stick so long + with a horse's tail tied to the end of it, to brush away the +flies, for the poor horse has had _his_ tail cut off pretty +short. I wonder if it isn't the very same," said Jenny, +laughing heartily: "Father Swaim thought he could manage it +best, I guess." + +"But what was it that happened to you that time at school?" +said Ellen. + +"Why, when we heard the horn blow, our master the +schoolmaster, you know went out to get a paper; and I was +tired with sitting still, so I jumped up, and ran across the +room and then back again, and over and back again, five or six +times; and when he came in, one of the girls up and told of +it. It was Fanny Lawson," said Jenny, in a whisper to Alice, +"and I think she ain't much different now from what she was +then. I can hear her now 'Mr. Starks, Jenny Hitchcock's been +running all around the room.' Well, what do you think he did +to me? He took hold of my two hands, and swung me round and +round by the arms, till I didn't know which was head and which +was feet." + +"What a queer schoolmaster!" said Ellen. + +"Queer enough; you may say that. His name was Starks; the +boys used to call him Starksification. We did hate him, that's +a fact. I'll tell you what he did to a black boy of ours you +know our black Sam, Alice? I forget what he had been doing; +but Starks took him so by the rims of the ears and danced +him up and down upon the floor." + +"But didn't that hurt him?" + +"Hurt him! I guess it did, he meant it should. He tied me +under the table once. Sometime, when he wanted to punish two +boys at a time, he would set them to spit in each other's +faces." + +"Oh! don't tell me about him!" cried Ellen, with a face of +horror: "I don't like to hear it." + +Jenny laughed; and just then the door opened, and Mr. Van +Brunt and the old news-carrier came in. + +He was a venerable, mild-looking man, with thin hair as white +as snow. He wore a long snuff-coloured coat and a broad- +brimmed hat, the sides of which were oddly looped up to the +crown, with twine; his tin horn or trumpet was in his hand. +His saddle-bags were on Mr. Van Brunt's' arm. As soon as she +saw him, Ellen was fevered with the notion that perhaps he had +something for her; and she forgot everything else. It would +seem that the rest of the company had the same hope, for they +crowded round him, shouting out welcomes, and questions, and +inquiries for letters all in a breath. + +"Softly softly," said the old man, sitting down, slowly; +"not all at once; I can't attend to you all at once; one at +a time one at a time." + +"Don't attend to 'em at all till you're ready," said Miss +Fortune "let 'em wait." And she handed him a glass of cider. + +He drank it off at a breath, smacking his lips as he gave back +the glass to her hand, and exclaiming, "That's prime!" Then +taking up his saddle-bags from the floor, he began slowly to +undo the fastenings. + +"You are going to our house to-night, ain't you, Father +Swaim?" said Jenny. + +That's where I _was_ going," said the old man "I _was_ agoing to +stop with your father, Miss Jenny; but since I've got into +farmer Van Brunt's hands, I don't know any more what's going +to become of me; and after that glass of cider, I don't much +care! Now let's see let's see 'Miss Jenny Hitchcock,' +here's something for you. I should like very much to know +what's inside of that letter there's a blue seal to it. Ah, +young folks! young folks! + +Jenny received her letter amidst a great deal of laughing and +joking, and seemed herself quite as much amused as anybody. + +" 'Jedediah B. Lawson' there's for your father, Miss Mimy; +that saves me a long tramp if you've twenty-one cents in +your pocket, that is; if you han't, I shall be obleeged to +tramp after that. Here's something for 'most all of you, I'm +thinking. 'Miss Cecilia Dennison' your fair hands how's +the squire? rheumatism, eh? I think I'm a younger man now +than your father, Cecilly; and yet I must ha' seen a good many +years more than Squire Dennison; I must, surely. 'Miss +Fortune Emerson' that's for you; a double letter, Maam." + +Ellen with a beating heart had pressed nearer and nearer to +the old man, till she stood close by his right hand, and could +see every letter as he handed it out. A spot of deepening red +was on each cheek as her eye eagerly scanned letter after +letter; it spread to a sudden flush when the last name was +read. Alice watched in some anxiety her keen look as it +followed the letter from the old man's hand to her aunt's, and +thence to the pocket, where Miss Fortune coolly bestowed it. +Ellen could not stand this; she sprang forward across the +circle. + +"Aunt Fortune, there's a letter inside of that for me won't +you give it to me? won't you give it to me?" she repeated, +trembling. + +Her aunt did not notice her by so much as a look; she turned +away and began talking to some one else. The red had left +Ellen's face when Alice could see it again it was livid and +spotted from stifled passion. She stood in a kind of maze. But +as her eye caught Alice's anxious and sorrowful look, she +covered her face with her hands, and as quick as possible made +her escape out of the room. + +For some minutes Alice heard none of the hubbub around her. +Then came a knock at the door, and the voice of Thomas Grimes +saying to Mr. Van Brunt that Miss Humphreys' horse was there. + +"Mr. Swaim," said Alice, rising, "I don't like to leave you +with these gay friends of ours; you'll stand no chance of rest +with them to-night. Will you ride home with me?" + +Many of the party began to beg Alice would stay to supper, but +she said her father would be uneasy. The old news-carrier +concluded to go with her, for, he said, "there was a pint he +wanted to mention to Parson Humphreys that he had forgotten to +bring for'ard when they were talking on that 'ere subject two +months ago." So Nancy brought her things from the next room, +and helped her on with them, and looked pleased, as well she +might, at the smile and kind words with which she was +rewarded. Alice lingered at her leave-taking, hoping to see +Ellen but it was not till the last moment that Ellen came +in. She did not say a word, but the two little arms were put +around Alice's neck, and held her with a long, close +earnestness, which did not pass from her mind all the evening +afterwards. + +When she was gone, the company sat down again to business; and +apple-paring went on more steadily than ever for a while, till +the bottom of the barrels was seen, and the last basketful of +apples was duly emptied. Then there was a general shout; the +kitchen was quickly cleared, and everybody's face brightened, +as much as to say, "Now for fun!" While Ellen and Nancy, and +Miss Fortune and Mrs. Van Brunt were running all ways with +trays, pans, baskets, knives, and buckets, the fun began by +Mr. Juniper Hitchcock's whistling in his dog, and setting him +to do various feats for the amusement of the company. There +followed such a rushing, leaping, barking, laughing, and +scolding on the part of the dog and his admirers, that the +room was in an uproar. He jumped over a stick; he got into a +chair, and sat up on two legs; he kissed the ladies' hands; he +suffered an apple-paring to be laid across his nose, then +threw it up with a jerk and caught it in his mouth. Nothing +very remarkable, certainly, but, as Miss Fortune observed to +somebody, "if he had been the learned pig, there couldn't ha' +been more fuss made over him." + +Ellen stood looking on, smiling partly at the dog and his +master, and partly at the antics of the company. Presently Mr. +Van Brunt, bending down to her, said + +"What is the matter with your eyes?" + +"Nothing," said Ellen, starting "at least nothing that's any +matter, I mean." + +"Come here," said he, drawing her on one side; "tell me all +about it what is the matter?" + +"Never mind please don't ask me, Mr. Van Brunt, it's nothing +I ought to tell you it isn't any matter." + +But her eyes were full again, and he still held her fast +doubtfully. + +"_I'll_ tell you about it, Mr. Van Brunt," said Nancy, as she +came past them "you let her go, and I'll tell you by-and- +by." + +And Ellen tried in vain afterwards to make her promise she +would not. + +"Come, June," said Miss Jenny, "we have got enough of you and +Jumper turn him out; we are going to have the cat now. Come! + Puss, puss in the corner! Go off in t'other room, will you, +everybody that don't want to play. Puss, puss!" + +Now the fun began in good earnest, and but few minutes had +passed before Ellen was laughing with all her heart, as if she +never had had anything to cry for in her life. After "puss, +puss in the corner" came "blind-man's-buff;" and this was +played with great spirit, the two most distinguished being +Nancy and Dan Dennison, though Miss Fortune played admirably +well. Ellen had seen Nancy play before; but she forgot her own +part of the game in sheer amazement at the way Mr. Dennison +managed his long body, which seemed to go where there was no +room for it, and vanish into air just when the grasp of some +grasping "blind man" was ready to fasten upon him. And when he +was blinded, he seemed to know by instinct where the walls +were, and keeping clear of them, he would swoop like a hawk +from one end of the room to the other, pouncing upon the +unlucky people who could by no means get out of the way fast +enough. When this had lasted awhile, there was a general call +for "the fox and the goose," and Miss Fortune was pitched upon +for the latter, she having in the other game showed herself +capable of good generalship. But who for the fox? Mr. Van +Brunt? + +"Not I," said Mr. Van Brunt "there ain't nothing of the fox +about me; Miss Fortune would beat me all hollow." + +"Who then, farmer?" said Bill Huff; "come! who is the fox? +Will I do?" + +"Not you, Bill; the goose 'ud be too much for you." + +There was a general shout, and cries of "Who then? who then?" + +"Dan Dennison," said Mr. Van Brunt. "Now look out for a sharp +fight." + +Amidst a great deal of laughing and confusion, the line was +formed, each person taking hold of a handkerchief or band +passed round the waist of the person before him, except when +the women held by each other's skirts. There were ranged +according to height, the tallest being next their leader, the +"goose." Mr. Van Brunt and the elder ladies, and two or three +more, chose to be lookers-on, and took post outside the door. + +Mr. Dennison began by taking off his coat, to give himself +more freedom in his movements; for his business was to catch +the train of the goose, one by one, as each in turn became the +hindmost; while _her_ object was to baffle him and keep her +family together, meeting him with outspread arms at every rush +he made to seize one of her brood; while the long train behind +her, following her quick movements, and swaying from side to +side to get out of the reach of the furious fox, was sometimes +in the shape of the letter C, and sometimes in that of the +letter S, and sometimes looked like a long snake with a +curling tail. Loud was the laughter, shrill the shrieks, as +the fox drove them hither and thither, and seemed to be in all +parts of the room at once. He was a cunning fox that, as well +as a bold one. Sometimes, when they thought him quite safe, +held at bay by the goose, he dived under or leaped over her +outstretched arms, and _almost_ snatched hold of little Ellen, +who being the least, was the last one of the party. But Ellen +played very well, and just escaped him two or three times, +till he declared she gave him so much trouble, that when he +caught her he would "kiss her the worst kind." Ellen played +none the worse for that; however she was caught at last, and +kissed, too; there was no help for it, so she bore it as well +as she could. Then she watched and laughed till the tears ran +down her cheeks, to see how the fox and the goose dodged each +other, what tricks were played, and how the long train pulled +each other about. At length Nancy was caught, and then Jenny +Hitchcock, and then Cecilia Dennison, and then Jane Huff, and +so on, till at last the fox and the goose had a long struggle +for Mimy Lawson, which would never have come to an end if Mimy +had not gone over to the enemy. + +There was a general pause. The hot and tired company were +seated around the room, panting and fanning themselves with +their pocket-handkerchiefs, and speaking broken sentences; +glad to rest even from laughing. Miss Fortune had thrown +herself down on a seat close by Ellen, when Nancy came up and +softly asked, "Is it time to beat the eggs now?" Miss Fortune +nodded, and then drew her close to receive a long, low whisper +in her ear, at the end of which Nancy ran off. + +"Is there anything _I_ can do, Aunt Fortune?" said Ellen, so +gently and timidly, that it ought to have won a kind answer. + +"Yes," said her aunt, "you may go and put yourself to bed; +it's high time, long ago." And looking round as she moved off, +she added, "Go!" with a little nod that as much as said, "I am +in earnest." + +Ellen's heart throbbed she stood doubtful. One word to Mr. +Van Brunt, and she need not go that she knew. But as surely, +too, that word would make trouble and do harm. And then she +remembered, "A charge to keep I have!" She turned quick, and +quitted the room. + +Ellen sat down on the first stair she came to, for her bosom +was heaving up and down, and she was determined not to cry. +The sounds of talking and laughing came to her from the +parlour, and there at her side stood the covered-up supper; +for a few minutes it was hard to keep her resolve. The thick +breath came and went very fast. Through the fanlights of the +hall door, opposite to which she was sitting, the bright +moonlight streamed in; and presently, as Ellen quieted, it +seemed to her fancy, like a gentle messenger from its Maker +bidding his child remember Him; and then came up some words +in her memory that her mother's lips had fastened there long +ago "I love them that love me, and they that seek me early +shall find me." She remembered her mother had told her it is +Jesus who says this. Her lost pleasure was well nigh +forgotten; and yet, as she sat gazing into the moonlight, +Ellen's eyes were gathering tears very fast. + +"Well, I _am_ seeking Him," she thought "can it be that he +loves me! Oh, I'm so glad!" + +And they were glad tears that little Ellen wiped away as she +went upstairs, for it was too cold to sit there long, if the +moon was ever so bright. + +She had her hand on the latch of the door, when her +grandmother called out from the other room to know who was +there. + +"It's I, grandma." + +"Ain't somebody there? Come in here who is it?" + +"It's I, Grandma," said Ellen, coming to the door. + +"Come in here, deary," said the old woman, in a lower tone +"what is it all? what's the matter? who's down stairs?" + +"It's a bee, Grandma; there's nothing the matter." + +"A bee! who's been stung? what's all the noise about?" + +" 'T isn't that kind of bee, Grandma; don't you know? there's +a parcel of people that came to pare apples, and they've been +playing games in the parlour that's all." + +"Paring apples, eh? Is there company below?" + +"Yes, Maam a whole parcel of people." + +"Dear me!" said the old lady, "I oughtn't to ha' been abed! +Why han't Fortune told me? I'll get right up. Ellen, you go in +that fur closet and bring me my paddysoy, that hangs there, +and then help me on with my things I'll get right up. Dear +me! what was Fortune thinking about?" + +The moonlight served very well instead of candles. After twice +bringing the wrong dresses, Ellen at last hit upon the +"paddysoy," which the old lady knew immediately by the touch. +In haste, and not without some fear and trembling on Ellen's +part, she was arrayed in it; her best cap put on, not over +hair in the best order, Ellen feared, but the old lady would +not stay to have it made better; Ellen took care of her down +the stairs, and after opening the door for her went back to +her room. + +A little while had passed, and Ellen was just tying her +nightcap strings, and ready to go peacefully to sleep, when +Nancy burst in. + +"Ellen! Hurry! you must come right downstairs." + +"Downstairs! why, I am just ready to go to bed." + +"No matter you must come right away down. There's Mr. Van +Brunt says he won't begin supper till you come." + +"But does Aunt Fortune want me too?" + +"Yes, I tell you! and the quicker you come the better she'll +be pleased. She sent me after you in all sorts of a hurry. She +said she didn't know where you was!" + +"Said she didn't know where I was! Why, she told me herself," + Ellen began, and stopped short. + +"Of course!" said Nancy; "don't you think I know that? But _he_ +don't, and if you want to plague her, you'll just tell him. +Now come, and be quick, will you? The supper's splendid." + +Ellen lost the first view of the table, for everything had +begun to be pulled to pieces before she came in. The company +were all crowded round the table, eating and talking, and +helping themselves; and ham and bread and butter, pumpkin-pies +and mince-pies and apple-pies, cake of various kinds, and +glasses of egg-nogg and cider, were in everybody's hands. One +dish in the middle of the big table had won the praise of +every tongue; nobody could guess, and many asked how it was +made, but Miss Fortune kept a satisfied silence, pleased to +see the constant stream of comers to the big dish, till it was +near empty. Just then, Mr. Van Brunt, seeing Ellen had +nothing, gathered up all that was left, and gave it to her. + +It was sweet, and cold, and rich. Ellen told her mother +afterwards it was the best thing she had ever tasted except +the ice-cream she once gave her in New York. She had taken, +however, but one spoonful, when her eye fell upon Nancy, +standing at the back of all the company, and forgotten. Nancy +had been upon her good behaviour all the evening, and it was a +singular proof of this that she had not pushed in and helped +herself among the first. Ellen's eye went once or twice from +her plate to Nancy, and then she crossed over and offered it +to her. It was eagerly taken, and, a little disappointed Ellen +stepped back again. But she soon forgot the disappointment. +"She'll know now that I don't bear her any grudge," she +thought. + +"Han't you got nothing?" said Nancy, coming up presently; +"that wasn't your'n that you gave me was it?" + +Ellen nodded, smilingly. + +"Well, there ain't no more of it," said Nancy. "The bowl is +empty." + +"I know it," said Ellen. + +"Why, didn't you like it?" + +"Yes very much." + +"Why, you're a queer little fish," said Nancy. "What did you +get Mr. Van Brunt to let me in for?" + +"How did you know I did?" + +" 'Cause he told me. Say what did you do it for? Mr. +Dennison, won't you give Ellen a piece of cake or something? +Here take this," said Nancy, pouncing upon a glass of egg- +nog, which a gap in the company enabled her to reach; "I made +it more than half myself. Ain't it good?" + +"Yes, very," said Ellen, smacking her lips; "what's in it?" + +"Oh, plenty of good things. But what made you ask Mr. Van +Brunt to let me stop to-night? you didn't tell me did you +want me to stay?" + +"Never mind," said Ellen; "don't ask me any questions." + +"Yes, but I will though: and you've got to answer me. Why did +you? Come! do you like me? say!" + +"I should like you, I dare say, if you would be different." + +"Well, I don't care," said Nancy, after a little pause; "I +like _you_, though you're as queer as you can be. I don't care +whether you like me or not. Look here, Ellen, _that_ cake there +is the best I know it is, for I've tried 'em all. You know +I told Van Brunt that I would tell him what you were crying +about?" + +"Yes, and I asked you not. Did you?" + +Nancy nodded, being at the moment still further engaged in +"trying" the cake. + +"I am sorry you did. What did he say?" + +"He didn't say much to _me_ somebody else will hear of it, I +guess. He was mad about it, or I am mistaken. What makes you +sorry?" + +"It will only do harm, and make Aunt Fortune angry." + +"Well, that's just what I should like, if I were you. I can't +make you out." + +"I'd a great deal rather have her like me," said Ellen. "Was +she vexed when Grandma came down?" + +"I don't know, but she had to keep it to herself if she was; +everybody else was so glad, and Mr. Van Brunt made such a +fuss. Just look at the old lady, how pleased she is! I declare +if the folks ain't talking of going! Come, Ellen! now for the +cloaks! you and me'll finish our supper afterwards." + +That, however, was not to be. Nancy was offered a ride home to +Mrs. Van Brunt's, and a lodging there. They were ready cloaked +and shawled, and Ellen was still hunting for Miss Janet's +things in the moonlit hall, when she heard Nancy close by, in +a lower tone than common, say + +"Ellen, will you kiss me?" + +Ellen dropped her armful of things, and, taking Nancy's hands, +gave her truly the kiss of peace. + +When she went up to undress for the second time, she found on +her bed her letter! And with tears Ellen kneeled down and +gave earnest thanks for this blessing, and that she had been +able to gain Nancy's good-will. + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +Sundry things round a pot of chocolate. + + +It was Tuesday, the 22nd of December, and late in the day. Not +a pleasant afternoon. The grey snow-clouds hung low; the air +was keen and raw. It was already growing dark, and Alice was +sitting alone in the firelight, when two little feet came +running round the corner of the house; the glass door opened, +and Ellen rushed in. + +"I have come! I have come!" she exclaimed. "Oh, dear Alice, +I'm so glad!" + +So was Alice, if her kiss meant anything. + +"But how late, my child! how late you are!" + +"Oh, I thought I never was going to get done!" said Ellen, +pulling off her things in a great hurry, and throwing them on +the sofa "but I am here at last. Oh, I'm so glad!" + +"Why, what has been the matter?" said Alice, folding up what +Ellen laid down. + +"Oh, a great deal of matter! I couldn't think what Nancy +meant last night I know very well now. I shan't want to see +any more apples all winter. What do you think I have been +about all to-day, dear Miss Alice?" + +"Nothing that has done you much harm," said Alice, smiling +"if I am to guess from your looks. You are as rosy as a good +Spitzenberg yourself." + +"That's very funny," said Ellen, laughing, "for Aunt Fortune +said a while ago that my cheeks were just the colour of two +mealy potatoes." + +"But about the apples?" said Alice. + +"Why, this morning I was thinking I would come here so early, +when the first thing I knew, Aunt Fortune brought out all +those heaps and heaps of apples into the kitchen, and made me +sit down on the floor, and then she gave me a great big +needle, and set me to stringing them all together; and as fast +as I strung them, she hung them up all round the ceiling. I +tried very hard to get through before, but I could not; and I +am so tired! I thought I never should get to the bottom of +that big basket." + +"Never mind, love come to the fire we'll try and forget +all disagreeable things while we are together." + +"I have forgotten it almost already," said Ellen, as she sat +down in Alice's lap, and laid her face against hers; "I don't +care for it at all now." + +But her cheeks were fast fading into the uncomfortable colour +Miss Fortune had spoken of; and weariness and weakness kept +her for awhile quiet in Alice's arms, overcoming even the +pleasure of talking. They sat so till the clock struck half- +past five; then Alice proposed they should go into the +kitchen, and see Margery, and order the tea made, which she +had no doubt Ellen wanted. Margery welcomed her with great +cordiality. She liked anybody that Alice liked, but she had +besides declared to her husband that Ellen was "an uncommon +well-behaved child." She said she would put the tea to draw, +and they should have it in a very few minutes. + +"But, Miss Alice, there's an Irish body, out by, waiting to +speak to you. I was just coming in to tell you; will you +please to see her now?" + +"Certainly let her come in. Is she in the cold, Margery?" + +"No, Miss Alice there's a fire there this evening. I'll call +her." + +The woman came up from the lower kitchen at the summons. She +was young, rather pretty, and with a pleasant countenance, but +unwashed, uncombed, untidy, no wonder Margery's nicety had +shrunk from introducing her into her spotless upper kitchen. +The unfailing Irish cloak was drawn about her, the hood +brought over her head, and on the head and shoulders the snow +lay white, not yet melted away. + +"Did you wish to speak to me, my friend?" said Alice, +pleasantly. + +"If ye plase, Maam, it the master I'm wanting," said the +woman, dropping a courtesy. + +"My father? Margery, will you tell him?" + +Margery departed. + +"Come nearer the fire," said Alice, "and sit down; my father +will be here presently. It is snowing again, is it not?" + +"It is, Maam a bitter storm." + +"Have you come far?" + +"It's a good bit, my lady it's more nor a mile beyant Carra + just right forgin the ould big hill they call the Catchback; +in Jemmy Morrison's woods where Pat M'Farren's clearing is +it's there I live, my lady." + +"That is a long distance, indeed, for a walk in the snow," +said Alice, kindly; "sit down, and come nearer the fire. +Margery will give you something to refresh you." + +"I thank ye, my lady, but I want nothing man can give me the +night; and when one's on an arrant of life and death, it's +little the cold or the storm can do to put out the heart's +fire." + +"Life and death! who is sick?" said Alice. + +"It's my own child, Maam my own boy all the child I have + and I'll have none by the morning light." + +"Is he so ill?" said Alice; "what is the matter with him?" + +"Myself doesn't know." + +The voice was fainter; the brown cloak was drawn over her +face; and Alice and Ellen saw her shoulders heaving with the +grief she kept from bursting out. They exchanged glances. + +"Sit down," said Alice again presently, laying her hand upon +the wet shoulder; "sit down and rest; my father will be here +directly. Margery oh, that's right a cup of tea will do +her good. What do you want with my father?" + +"The Lord bless ye! I'll tell you, my lady." + +She drank off the tea, but refused something more substantial +that Margery offered her. + +"The Lord bless ye! I couldn't. My lady, there wasn't a +stronger, nor a prettier, nor a swater child, nor couldn't be, +nor he was when we left it it'll be three years come the +fifteenth of April next; but I'm thinking the bitter winters +of this cowld country has chilled the life o' him and +troubles cowlder than all," she added, in a lower tone. "I +seed him grow waker and waker, an' his dair face grown thinner +and thinner, and the red all left it, only two burning spots +was on it some days; an' I worried the life out o' me for him, +an' all I could do, I couldn't do nothing at all to help him, +for he just growed waker an' waker. I axed the father wouldn't +he see the doctor about him, but he's an aisy kind o' man, my +lady, an' he said he would, an' he never did to this day; an' +John, he always said it was no use sinding for the doctor, an' +looked so swate at me, an' said for me not to fret, for sure +he'd be better soon, or he'd go to a better place. An' I +thought he was already like a heavenly angel itself, an' +always was, but then more nor ever. Och! it's soon that he'll +be one entirely! let Father Shannon say what he will." + +She sobbed for a minute, while Alice and Ellen looked on, +silent and pitying. + +"An' to-night, my lady, he's very bad," she went on, wiping +away the tears that came quickly again "an' I seed he was +going fast from me, an' I was breaking my heart wid the loss +of him, whin I heard one of the men that was in it say, +'What's this he's saying?' says he. 'An' what is it, thin?' +says I. 'About the gintleman that praiches at Carra,' says he + 'he's a calling for him,' says he. I knowed there wasn't a +praist at all at Carra, an' I thought he was draiming, or out +o' his head, or crazy wid his sickness, like; an' I went up +close to him, an' says I, 'John,' says I, 'what is it you +want,' says I 'an' sure, if it's anything in heaven above or +in earth beneath that yer own mother can get for ye,' says I, +'ye shall have it,' says I. An' he put up his two arms around +my neck, an' pulled my face down to his lips, that was hot wid +the faver, an' kissed me he did 'An',' says he, 'mother +dair,' says he 'if ye love me,' says he, 'fetch me the good +gintleman that praiches at Carra, till I spake to him.' 'Is it +the praist you want, John, my boy?' says I 'sure he's in +it,' says I'; for Michael had been for Father Shannon, an' he +had come home wid him half an hour before. 'Oh no, mother,' +says he, 'it's not him at all that I mane it's the gintleman +that spakes in the little white church at Carra he's not a +praist at all,' says he. 'An' who is he thin?' says I, getting +up from the bed, 'or where will I find him, or how will I get +to him?' 'Ye'll not stir a fut for him, thin, the night, Kitty +Dolan,' says my husband 'are ye mad,' says he; 'sure it's +not his own head the child has at all at all, or it's a little +hiritic he is,' says he; 'an' ye won't show the disrespect to +the praist in yer own house.' 'I'm maining none,' says I +'nor more, he isn't a hiritic; but if he was, he's a born +angel to you, Michael Dolan, anyhow,' says I; 'an' wid the +kiss of his lips on my face, wouldn't I do the arrant of my +own boy, an' he a dying? by the blessing, an' I will, if +twenty men stud between me an' it. So tell me where I'll find +him, this praist, if there's the love o' mercy in any sowl o' +ye,' says I. But they wouldn't spake a word for me, not one of +them; so I axed an' axed at one place an' other, till here I +am. An' now, my lady, will the master go for me to my poor +boy? for he'd maybe be dead while I stand here." + +"Surely I will," said Mr. Humphreys, who had come in while she +was speaking. "Wait but one moment." + +In a moment he came back ready, and he and the woman set forth +to their walk. Alice looked out anxiously after them. + +"It storms very hard," she said "and he had not had his tea! +But he couldn't wait. Come, Ellen, love, we'll have ours. How +will he ever get back again? it will be so deep by that time." + +There was a cloud on her fair brow for a few minutes, but it +passed away, and, quiet and calm as ever, she sat down at the +little tea-table with Ellen. From _her_ face all shadows seemed +to have flown for ever. Hungry and happy, she enjoyed +Margery's good bread and butter, and the nice honey, and from +time to time cast very bright looks at the dear face on the +other side of the table, which could not help looking bright +in reply. Ellen was well pleased, for her part, that the third +seat was empty. But Alice looked thoughtful sometime as a gust +of wind swept by, and once or twice went to the window. + +After tea, Alice took out her work, and Ellen put herself +contentedly down on the rug, and sat leaning back against her. +Silent for very contentment for a while, she sat looking +gravely into the fire; while Alice's fingers drove a little +steel hook through and through some purse silk in a mysterious +fashion, that no eye could be quick enough to follow, and with +such skill and steadiness, that the work grew fast under her +hand. + +"I had such a funny dream last night," said Ellen. + +"Had you? what about?" + +"It was pleasant, too," said Ellen, twisting herself round to +talk "but very queer. I dreamed about that gentleman that +was so kind to me on board the boat you know? I told you +about him?" + +"Yes, I remember." + +"Well, I dreamed of seeing him somewhere, I don't know where +and he didn't look a bit like himself, only I knew who it was; +and I thought I didn't like to speak to him for fear he +wouldn't know _me_, but then I thought he did, and came up and +took my hand, and seemed so glad to see me; and he asked me if +I had been _pious_ since he saw me." + +Ellen stopped to laugh. + +"And what did you tell him?" + +"I told him yes. And then I thought he seemed so very +pleased." + +"Dreamers do not always keep close to the truth, it seems." + +"_I_ didn't," said Ellen. "But then I thought I had, in my +dream." + +"Had what? kept close to the truth?" + +"No, no been what he said." + +"Dreams are queer things," said Alice. + +"I have been far enough from being good to-day," said Ellen, +thoughtfully. + +"How so, my dear?" + +"I don't know, Miss Alice because I never _am_ good, I +suppose." + +"But what has been the matter to-day?" + +"Why, those apples! I thought I would come here so early, and +then, when I found I must do all those baskets of apples +first, I was very ill-humoured; and Aunt Fortune saw I was, +and said something that made me worse. And I tried as hard as +I could to get through before dinner, and when I found I +couldn't, I said I wouldn't come to dinner; but she made me, +and that vexed me more, and I wouldn't eat scarcely anything, +and then, when I got back to the apples again, I sewed so +hard, that I ran the needle into my finger ever so far see +there, what a mark it left! and Aunt Fortune said it served +me right, and she was glad of it, and that made me angry. I +knew I was wrong, afterwards, and I was very sorry. Isn't it +strange, dear Alice, I should do so when I have resolved so +hard I wouldn't." + +"Not very, my darling, as long as we have such evil hearts as +ours are it _is_ strange they should be so evil." + +"I told Aunt Fortune afterwards I was sorry, but she said +'Actions speak louder than words, and words are cheap.' If she +only wouldn't say that just as she does! it does worry me so." + +"Patience!" said Alice, passing her hand over Ellen's hair as +she sat looking sorrowfully up at her. "You must try not to +give her occasion. Never mind what she says, and overcome evil +with good." + +"That is just what Mamma said!" exclaimed Ellen, rising to +throw her arms around Alice's neck, and kissing her with all +the energy of love, gratitude, repentance, and sorrowful +recollection. + +"Oh, what do you think!" she said, suddenly, her face changing +again, "I got my letter last night!" + +"Your letter!" + +"Yes, the letter the old man brought don't you know? and it +was written in the ship, and there was only a little bit from +Mamma, and a little bit from Papa, but so good! Papa says she +is a great deal better, and he has no doubt he will bring her +back in the spring or summer quite well again. Isn't that +good?" + +"Very good, dear Ellen. I am very glad for you." + +"It was, on my bed last night. I can't think how it got there; +and I don't care, either, so long as I've got it. What are you +making?" + +"A purse," said Alice, laying it on the table for her +inspection. + +"It will be very pretty. Is the other end to be like this?" + +"Yes, and these tassels to finish them off." + +"Oh, that's beautiful," said Ellen, laying them down to try +the effect; "and these rings to fasten it with. Is it black?" + +"No, dark green. I am making it for my brother John." + +"A Christmas present!" exclaimed Ellen. + +"I am afraid not; he will hardly be here by that time. It may +do for New Year." + +"How pleasant it must be to make Christmas and New Year +presents!" said Ellen, after she had watched Alice's busy +fingers for a few minutes. "I wish I could make something for +somebody. Oh! I wonder if I couldn't make something for Mr. +Van Brunt! Oh, I should like to, very much." + +Alice smiled at Ellen's very wide-open eyes. + +"What could you make for him?" + +"I don't know that's the thing. He keeps his money in his +pocket; and besides, I don't know how to make purses." + +"There are other things besides purses. How would a watch- +guard do? Does he wear a watch?" + +"I don't know whether he does or not; he doesn't every day, I +am sure, but I don't know about Sundays." + +"Then, we won't venture upon that. You might knit him a +nightcap." + +"A nightcap? you're joking, Alice, aren't you? I don't think +a nightcap would be pretty for a Christmas present do you?" + +"Well, what shall we do, Ellen?" said Alice, laughing. "I made +a pocket-pincushion for Papa once, when I was a little girl, +but I fancy Mr. Van Brunt would not know exactly what use to +make of such a convenience. I don't think you could fail to +please him, though, with anything you should hit upon." + +"I have got a dollar," said Ellen, "to buy stuff with; it came +in my letter last night. If I only knew what!" + +Down she went on the rug again, and Alice worked in silence, +while Ellen's thoughts ran over every possible and impossible +article of Mr. Van Brunt's dress. + +"I have some nice pieces of fine linen," said Alice; "suppose +I cut out a collar for him, and you can make it and stitch it, +and then Margery will starch and iron it for you, all ready to +give to him. How will that do? Can you stitch well enough?" + +"Oh, yes, I guess I can," said Ellen. "Oh, thank you, dear +Alice! you are the best help that ever was. Will he like that, +do you think?" + +"I am sure he will very much." + +"Then, that will do nicely," said Ellen, much relieved. "And +now, what do you think about Nancy's Bible?" + +"Nothing could be better; only that I am afraid Nancy would +either sell it for something else, or let it go to destruction +very quickly. I never heard of her spending five minutes over +a book, and the Bible, I am afraid, last of all." + +"But I think," said Ellen slowly, "I think she would not +spoil it, or sell it either, if _I_ gave it to her." + +And she told Alice about Nancy's asking for the kiss last +night. + +"That's the most hopeful thing I have heard about Nancy for a +long time," said Alice. "We will get her the Bible by all +means, my dear a nice one and I hope you will be able to +persuade her to read it." + +She rose as she spoke, and went to the glass door. Ellen +followed her, and they looked out into the night. It was very +dark. She opened the door a moment, but the wind drove the +snow into their faces, and they were glad to shut it again. + +"It's almost as bad as the night we were out, isn't it?" said +Ellen. + +"Not such a heavy fall of snow, I think, but it is very windy +and cold. Papa will be late getting home." + +"I am sorry you are worried, dear Alice." + +"I am not _much_ worried, love. I have often known Papa out late +before, but this is rather a hard night for a long walk. Come, +we'll try to make a good use of the time while we are waiting. +Suppose you read to me while I work." + +She took down a volume of Cowper, and found his account of the +three pet hares. Ellen read it, and then several of his +smaller pieces of poetry. Then followed a long talk about +hares and other animals; about Cowper and his friends, and his +way of life. Time passed swiftly away; it was getting late. + +"How weary papa will be!" said Alice. "He has had nothing to +eat since dinner. I'll tell you what we'll do, Ellen," she +exclaimed, as she threw her work down, "we'll make some +chocolate for him that'll be the very thing. Ellen, dear, +run into the kitchen and ask Margery to bring me the little +chocolate-pot and a pitcher of night's milk." + +Margery brought them. The pot was set on the coals, and Alice +had cut up the chocolate that it might melt the quicker. Ellen +watched it with great interest till it was melted, and the +boiling water stirred in, and the whole was simmering quietly +on the coals. + +"Is it done now?" + +"No, it must boil a little while, and then the milk must be +put in, and when that has boiled, the eggs and then it will +be done." + +With Margery and the chocolate-pot the cat had walked in. +Ellen immediately endeavoured to improve his acquaintance; +that was not so easy. The Captain chose the corner of the rug +furthest from her, in spite of all her calling and coaxing, +paying her no more attention than if he had not heard her. +Ellen crossed over to him, and began most tenderly and +respectfully to stroke his head and back, touching his soft +fur with great care. Parry presently lifted up his head +uneasily, as much as to say, "I wonder how long this is going +to last" and finding there was every prospect of its lasting +some time, he fairly got up and walked over to the other end +of the rug. Ellen followed him, and tried again, with exactly +the same effect. + +"Well, cat! you aren't very kind," said she as length; +"Alice, he won't let me have anything to do with him!" + +"I am sorry, my dear, he is so unsociable; he is a cat of very +bad taste that is all I can say." + +"But I never saw such a cat! he won't let me touch him ever so +softly; he lifts up his head and looks as cross; and then +walks off." + +"He don't know you yet, and truth is, Parry has no fancy for +extending the circle of his acquaintance. Oh, kitty, kitty!" +said Alice, fondly stroking his head, "why don't you behave +better?" + +Parry lifted his head, and opened and shut his eyes, with an +expression of great satisfaction, very different from that he +had bestowed on Ellen. Ellen gave him up for the present as a +hopeless case, and turned her attention to the chocolate, +which had now received the milk, and must be watched lest it +should run over, which Alice said it would very easily do when +once it began to boil again. Meanwhile Ellen wanted to know +what chocolate was made of where it came from where it was +made best burning her little face in the fire all the time, +lest the pot should boil over while she was not looking. At +last the chocolate began to gather a rich froth, and Ellen +called out + +"Oh, Alice! look here quick! here's the shape of the spoon +on the top of the chocolate! do look at it." + +An iron spoon was in the pot, and its shape was distinctly +raised on the smooth frothy surface. As they were both bending +forward to watch it, Alice waiting to take the pot off the +moment it began to boil, Ellen head a slight click of the lock +of the door, and turning her head, was a little startled to +see a stranger there, standing still at the far end of the +room. She touched Alice's arm without looking round. But Alice +started to her feet with a slight scream, and in another +minute had thrown her arms round the stranger, and was locked +in his. Ellen knew what it meant now, very well. She turned +away as if she had nothing to do with what was going on there, +and lifted the pot of chocolate off the fire with infinite +difficulty; but it was going to boil over, and she would have +broken her back rather than not do it. And then she stood with +her back to the brother and sister, looking into the fire, as +if she was determined not to see them till she couldn't help +it. But what she was thinking of, Ellen could not have told, +then or afterwards. It was but a few minutes, though it seemed +to her a great many, before they drew near the fire. Curiosity +began to be strong, and she looked round to see if the new- +comer was like Alice. No, not a bit how different! darker +hair and eyes not a bit like her; handsome enough, too, to +be her brother. And Alice did not look like herself; her +usually calm, sweet face was quivering and sparkling now lit +up as Ellen had never seen it oh, how bright! Poor Ellen +herself had never looked duller in her life; and when Alice +said, gaily, "This is my brother, Ellen," her confusion of +thoughts and feelings resolved themselves into a flood of +tears; she sprang and hid her face in Alice's arms. + +Ellen's were not the only eyes that were full just then, but +of course she did not know that. + +"Come, Ellen," whispered Alice, presently, "look up! what +kind of a welcome is this? come! we have no business with +tears just now. Won't you run into the kitchen for me, love," +she added, more low, "and ask Margery to bring some bread and +butter, and anything else she has that is fit for a +traveller?" + +Glad of an escape, Ellen darted away that her wet face might +not be seen. The brother and sister were busily talking when +she returned. + +"John," said Alice, "this is my little sister that I wrote you +about Ellen Montgomery. Ellen, this is your brother as well +as mine, you know." + +"Stop! stop!" said her brother. "Miss Ellen, this sister of +mine is giving us away to each other at a great rate; I should +like to know first what you say to it. Are you willing to take +a strange brother upon her recommendation?" + +Half inclined to laugh, Ellen glanced at the speaker's face, +but meeting the grave though somewhat comical look of two very +keen eyes, she looked down again, and merely answered, "yes." + +"Then, if I am to be your brother, you must give me a +brother's right, you know," said he, drawing her gently to +him, and kissing her gravely on the lips. + +Probably Ellen thought there was a difference between John +Humphreys and Mr. Van Brunt, or the young gentlemen of the +apple-paring; for, though she coloured a good deal, she made +no objection, and showed no displeasure. Alice and she now +busied themselves with getting the cups and saucers out of the +cupboard, and setting the table: but all that evening, through +whatever was doing, Ellen's eyes sought the stranger as if by +fascination. She watched him whenever she could without being +noticed. At first she was in doubt what to think of him; she +was quite sure, from that one looking into his eyes, that he +was a person to be feared; there was no doubt of that; as to +the rest she didn't know. + +"And what have my two sisters been doing to spend the +evening?" said John Humphreys, one time that Alice was gone +into the kitchen on some kind errand for him. + +"Talking, Sir," said Ellen, doubtfully. + +"Talking! this whole evening? Alice must have improved. What +have you been talking about?" + +"Hares and dogs and about Mr. Cowper and some other +things." + +"Private affairs, eh?" said he, with again the look Ellen had +seen before. + +"Yes, Sir," said Ellen, nodding and laughing. + +"And how came you upon Mr. Cowper?" + +"Sir?" + +"How came you to be talking about Mr. Cowper?" + +"I was reading about his hares, and about John Gilpin; and +then Alice told me about Mr. Cowper and his friends." + +"Well, I don't know, after all, that you have had a pleasanter +evening than I have had," said her questioner, "though I have +been riding hard, with the cold wind in my face, and the +driving snow doing all it could to discomfort me. I have had +this very bright fireside before me all the way." + +He fell into a fit of grave musing, which lasted till Alice +came in, then suddenly fell afumbling in his pocket. + +"Here's a note for you," said he, throwing it into her lap. + +"A note! Sophia Marshman where did you get it?" + +"From her own hand. Passing there to-day, I thought I must +stop a moment to speak to them, and had no notion of doing +more; but Mrs. Marshman was very kind, and Miss Sophia in +despair, so the end of it was, I dismounted and went in to +await the preparing of that billet while my poor nag was led +off to the stables and a fresh horse supplied me I fancy +that tells you on what conditions." + +"Charming!" said Alice "to spend Christmas I am very glad; +I should like to, very much with you dear. If I can only get +Papa but I think he will; it will do him a great deal of +good. To-morrow, she says, we must come; but I doubt the +weather will not let us; we shall see." + +"I rode Prince Charlie down. He is a good traveller, and the +sleighing will be fine if the snow be not too deep. The old +sleigh is in being yet, I suppose?" + +"Oh, yes in good order. Ellen? what are you looking so grave +about? you are going? too." + +"I?" said Ellen, a great spot of crimson coming in each cheek. + +"To be sure; do you think I am going to leave you behind?" + +"But" + +"But what?" + +"There won't be room." + +"Room in the sleigh? Then we'll put John on Prince Charlie, +and let him ride there, postilion fashion." + +"But Mr. Humphreys?" + +"He always goes on horse-back; he will ride Sharp or old +John." + +In great delight, Ellen gave Alice an earnest kiss; and then +they all gathered round the table to take their chocolate, or +rather to see John take his, which his sister would not let +him wait for any longer. The storm had ceased, and through the +broken clouds the moon and stars were looking out, so they +were no more uneasy for Mr. Humphreys, and expected him every +moment. Still the supper was begun and ended without him, and +they had drawn round the fire again before his welcome step +was at last heard. + +There was new joy then; new embracing, and questioning, and +answering; the little circle opened to let him in; and Alice +brought the corner of the table to his side and poured him out +a cup of hot chocolate. But, after drinking half of it, and +neglecting the eatables beside him, he sat with one hand in +the other, his arm leaning on his knee, with a kind of +softened gravity upon his countenance. + +"Is your chocolate right, Papa?" said Alice, at length. + +"_Very_ good, my daughter." + +He finished the cup, but then went back to his old attitude +and look. Gradually they ceased their conversation, and waited +with respectful affection and some curiosity for him to speak; +something of more than common interest seemed to be in his +thoughts. He sat looking earnestly in the fire, sometimes with +almost a smile on his face, and gently striking one hand in +the palm of the other. And sitting so, without moving or +stirring his eyes, he said at last, as though the words had +been forced from him, "Thanks be unto God for his unspeakable +gift!" + +As he added no more, Alice said, gently, "What have you seen +to-night, Papa?" + +He roused himself, and pushed the empty cup towards her. + +"A little more, my daughter; I have seen the fairest sight, +almost, a man can see in this world. I have seen a little +ransomed spirit go home to its rest. Oh, that 'unspeakable +gift!' " He pressed his lips thoughtfully together while he +stirred his chocolate; but having drunk it, he pushed the +table from him, and drew up his chair. + +"You had a long way to go, Papa," observed Alice, again. + +"Yes a long way there I don't know what it was coming +home; I never thought of it. How independent the spirit can be +of externals! I scarcely felt the storm to-night." + +"Nor I," said his son. + +"I had a long way to go," said Mr. Humphreys; "that poor woman + that Mrs. Dolan she lives in the woods behind the Cat's +Back, a mile beyond Carra-carra, or more it seemed a long +mile to-night; and a more miserable place I never saw yet. A +little rickety shanty, the storm was hardly kept out of it, +and no appearance of comfort or nicety anywhere or in +anything. There were several men gathered round the fire, and +in a corner, on a miserable kind of bed, I saw the sick child. +His eye met mine the moment I went in, and I thought I had +seen him before, but couldn't at first make out where. Do you +remember, Alice, a little ragged boy, with a remarkably +bright, pleasant face, who has planted himself regularly every +Sunday morning for some time past in the south aisle of the +church, and stood there all service time?" + +Alice said no. + +"I have noticed him often, and noticed him as paying a most +fixed and steady attention. I have repeatedly tried to catch +him on his way out of the church, to speak to him, but always +failed. I asked him to night, when I first went in, if he knew +me. 'I do, Sir,' he said. I asked him where he had seen me. He +said, 'In the church beyant.' 'So,' said I, 'you are the +little boy I have seen there so regularly; what did you come +there for?" + +" 'To hear your honor spake the good words.' + +" 'What good words?' said I; 'about what?' + +"He said, 'About Him that was slain, and washed us from our +sins in his own blood.' + +" 'And do you think he has washed away yours?' I said. + +"He smiled at me very expressively. I suppose it was somewhat +difficult for him to speak; and, to tell the truth, so it was +for me, for I was taken by surprise; but the people in the hut +had gathered round, and I wished to hear him say more, for +their sake as well as my own. I asked him why he thought his +sins were washed away. He gave me for answer part of the +verse, 'Suffer little children to come unto me,' but did not +finish it. 'Do you think you are very sick, John?' I asked. + +" 'I am, Sir,' he said 'I'll not be long here.' + +" 'And where do you think you are going, then?' said I. + +"He lifted one little, thin, bony arm from under his coverlid, +and, through all the dirt and the pallor of his face, the +smile of heaven I am sure was on it, as he looked and pointed +upward, and answered, 'Jesus!' + +"I asked him presently, as soon as I could, what he had wished +to see me for. I don't know whether he heard me or not; he lay +with his eyes half closed, breathing with difficulty. I +doubted whether he would speak again; and indeed, for myself, +I had heard and seen enough to satisfy me entirely; for the +sake of the group around the bed, I could have desired +something further. They kept perfect stillness; awed, I think, +by a profession of faith such as they had never heard before. +They and I stood watching him, and at the end of a few +minutes, not more than ten or fifteen, he opened his eyes, and +with sudden life and strength rose up half-way in bed, +exclaiming, 'Thanks to be God for his unspeakable gift!' and +then fell back just dead." + +The old gentleman's voice was husky as he finished, for Alice +and Ellen were both weeping, and John Humphreys had covered +his face with his hands. + +"I have felt," said the old gentleman, presently, "as if I +could have shouted out his words his dying words all the +way as I came home. My little girl," said he, drawing Ellen to +him, "do you know the meaning of those sweet things of which +little John Dolan's mind was so full?" + +Ellen did not speak. + +"Do you know what it is to be a sinner? and what it is to be +a forgiven child of God?" + +"I believe I do, Sir," Ellen said. + +He kissed her forehand and blessed her; and then said, "Let us +pray." + +It was late; the servants had gone to bed, and they were +alone. Oh! what a thanksgiving Mr. Humphreys poured forth for +that "unspeakable gift!" that they, every one there, had +been made to know and rejoice in it; for the poor little boy, +rich in faith, who had just gone home in the same rejoicing; +for their own loved ones who were there already; and for the +hope of joining them soon in safety and joy, to sing with them +the "new song" for ever and ever. + +There were no dry eyes in the room. And when they arose, Mr. +Humpreys, after giving his daughter the usual kiss for good +night, gave one to Ellen too, which he had never done before, +and then going to his son, and laying both hands on his +shoulders, kissed his cheek also; then silently took his +candle and went. + +They lingered a little while after he was gone, standing round +the fire as if loth to part, but in grave silence, each busy +with his own thoughts. Alice's ended by fixing on her brother, +for, laying her hand and her head carelessly on his shoulder, +she said, "And so you have been well all this time, John?" + +He turned his face towards her without speaking, but Ellen as +well as his sister saw the look of love with which he answered +her question, rather of endearment than inquiry; and from that +minute Ellen's mind was made up as to the doubt which had +troubled her. She went to bed quite satisfied that her new +brother was a decided acquisition. + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +The jingling of sleigh-bells. + + +Before Ellen's eyes were open the next morning almost before +she awoke the thought of the Christmas visit, the sleigh- +ride, John Humphreys, and the weather, all rushed into her +mind at once, and started her half up in the bed to look out +of the window. Well frosted the panes of glass were, but at +the corners and edges, unmistakeable bright gleams of light +came in. + +"Oh, Alice, it's beautiful!" exclaimed Ellen; "look how the +sun is shining! and 'tisn't very cold. Are we going to-day?" + +"I don't know yet, Ellie, but we shall know very soon. We'll +settle that at breakfast." + +At breakfast it was settled. They were to go, and set off +directly. Mr. Humphreys could not go with them, because he had +promised to bury little John Dolan; the priest had declared _he_ +would have nothing to do with it; and the poor mother had +applied to Mr. Humphreys, as being the clergyman her child had +most trusted and loved to hear. It seemed that little John had +pursuaded her out of half her prejudices by his affectionate +talk and blameless behaviour during some time past. Mr. +Humphreys, therefore, must stay at home that day. He promised, +however, to follow them the next, and would by no means permit +them to wait for him. He said the day was fine, and they must +improve it; and he should be pleased to have them with their +friends as long as possible. + +So the little travelling-bag was stuffed, with more things +than it seemed possible to get into it. Among the rest, Ellen +brought her little red Bible, which Alice decided should go in +John's pocket; the little carpet-bag could not take it. Ellen +was afraid it never would be locked. By dint of much pushing +and crowding, however, locked it was; and they made themselves +ready. Over Ellen's merino dress and coat went an old fur +tippet; a little shawl was tied round her neck; her feet were +cased in a pair of warm moccassins, which, belonging to +Margery, were of course a world too big for her, but "anything +but cold," as their owner said. Her nice blue hood would +protect her head well, and Alice gave her a green veil to save +her eyes from the glare of the snow. When Ellen shuffled out +of Alice's room in this trim, John gave her one of his grave +looks, and saying she looked like Mother Bunch, begged to know +how she expected to get to the sleigh; he said she would want +a footman indeed to wait upon her, to pick up her slippers, if +she went in that fashion. However, he ended by picking _her_ up, +carried her, and set her down safely in the sleigh. Alice +followed, and in another minute they were off. + +Ellen's delight was unbounded. Presently they turned round a +corner and left the house behind out of sight; and they were +speeding away along a road that was quite new to her. Ellen's +heart felt like dancing for joy. Nobody would have thought it, +she sat so still and quiet between Alice and her brother; but +her eyes were very bright as they looked joyously about her, +and every now and then she could not help smiling to herself. +Nothing was wanting to the pleasure of that ride. The day was +of winter's fairest; the blue sky as clear as if clouds had +never dimmed or crossed it. None crossed it now. It was cold, +but not bitterly cold, nor windy; the sleigh skimmed along +over the smooth frozen surface of the snow as if it was no +trouble at all to Prince Charlie to draw it; and the sleigh +bells jingled and rang, the very music for Ellen's thoughts to +dance to. And then with somebody she liked very much on each +side of her, and pleasures untold in the prospect, no wonder +she felt as if her heart could not hold any more. The green +veil could not be kept on, everything looked so beautiful in +that morning's sun. The long, wide slopes of untrodden and +unspotted snow, too bright sometimes for the eye to look at; +the shadows that here and there lay upon it, of woodland and +scattered trees; the very brown fences, and the bare arms and +branches of the leafless trees, showing sharp against the +white ground and clear bright heaven; all seemed lovely in +her eyes. For + + +"It is content of heart +Gives nature power to please." + + +She could see nothing that was not pleasant. And, besides, +they were in a nice little red sleigh, with a warm buffalo +robe, and Prince Charlie was a fine-spirited gray, that +scarcely ever needed to be touched with the whip; at a word of +encouragement from his driver, he would toss his head and set +forward with new life, making all the bells jingle again. To +be sure, she would have been just as happy if they had had the +poorest of vehicles on runners, with old John instead; but +still it was pleasanter so. + +Their road at first was through a fine undulating country, +like that between the Nose and Thirlwall; farmhouses and +patches of woodland scattered here and there. It would seem +that the minds of all the party were full of the same +thoughts, for, after a very long silence, Alice's first word, +almost sigh, was + +"This is a beautiful world, John!" + +"Beautiful! wherever you can escape from the signs of man's +presence and influence." + +"Isn't that almost too strong?" said Alice. + +He shook his head, smiling somewhat sadly, and touched Prince +Charlie, who was indulging himself in a walk. + +"But there are bright exceptions," said Alice. + +"I believe it; never so much as when I come home." + +"Are there none around you, then, in whom you can have +confidence and sympathy?" + +He shook his head again. "Not enough, Alice. I long for you +every day of my life." + +Alice turned her head quick away. + +"It must be so, my dear sister," he said, presently; "we can +never expect to find it otherwise. There are, as you say, +bright exceptions many of them; but in almost all I find +some sad want. We must wait till we join the spirits of the +just made perfect, before we see society that will be all we +wish for." + +"What is Ellen thinking of all this while?" said Alice, +presently, bending down to see her face. "As grave as a judge! + what are you musing about?" + +"I was thinking," said Ellen, "how men could help the world's +being beautiful." + +"Don't trouble your little head with that question," said +John, smiling "long may it be before you are able to answer +it. Look at those snow-birds!" + +By degrees the day wore on. About one o'clock they stopped at +a farmhouse to let the horse rest, and to stretch their own +limbs, which Ellen, for her part, was very glad to do. The +people of the house received them with great hospitality, and +offered them pumpkin-pies and sweet cider. Alice had brought a +basket of sandwiches, and Prince Charlie was furnished with a +bag of corn Thomas had stowed away in the sleigh for him; so +they were all well refreshed and rested and warmed before they +set off again. + +From home to Ventnor, Mr. Marshman's place, was more than +thirty miles, and the longest, because the most difficult, +part of the way was still before them. Ellen, however, soon +became sleepy, from riding in the keen air; she was content +now to have the green veil over her face, and sitting down in +the bottom of the sleigh, her head leaning against Alice, and +covered well with the buffalo robe, she slept in happy +unconsciousness of hill and dale, wind and sun, and all the +remaining hours of the way. + +It was drawing towards four o'clock, when Alice, with some +difficulty, roused her to see the approach to the house, and +get wide awake before they should reach it. They turned from +the road, and entered by a gateway into some pleasure-grounds, +through which a short drive brought them to the house. These +grounds were fine, but the wide lawns were a smooth spread of +snow now; the great skeletons of oaks and elms were bare and +wintry; and patches of shrubbery offered little but tufts and +bunches of brown twigs and stems. It might have looked dreary, +but that some well-grown evergreens were clustered round the +house, and others scattered here and there relieved the eye; +a few holly-bushes, singly and in groups, proudly displayed +their bright dark leaves and red berries; and one unrivalled +hemlock, on the west, threw its graceful shadow quite across +the lawn, on which, as on itself, the white chimney-tops, and +the naked branches of oaks and elms, was the faint smile of +the afternoon sun. + +A servant came to take the horse, and Ellen, being first rid +of her moccassins, went with John and Alice up the broad +flight of steps, and into the house. They entered a large, +handsome square hall, with a blue-and-white stone floor, at +one side of which the staircase went winding up. Here they +were met by a young lady, very lively and pleasant-faced, who +threw her arms round Alice, and kissed her a great many times, +seeming very glad indeed to see her. She welcomed Ellen, too, +with such warmth, that she began to feel almost as if she had +been sent for and expected told Mr. John he had behaved +admirably and then led them into a large room, where was a +group of ladies and gentlemen. + +The welcome they got here was less lively, but quite as kind. +Mr. and Mrs. Marshman were fine, handsome old people, of +stately presence, and most dignified as well as kind in their +deportment. Ellen saw that Alice was at home here, as if she +had been a daughter of the family. Mrs. Marshman also stooped +down and kissed her herself, telling her she was very glad she +had come, and that there were a number of young people there, +who would be much pleased to have her help them keep +Christmas. Ellen could not make out yet who any of the rest of +the company were. John and Alice seemed to know them all, and +there was a buzz of pleasant voices, and a great bustle of +shaking hands. + +The children had all gone out to walk, and, as they had had +their dinner a great while ago, it was decided that Ellen +should take hers that day with the elder part of the family. +While they were waiting to be called to dinner, and everybody +else was talking and laughing, old Mr. Marshman took notice of +little Ellen, and drawing her from Alice's side to his own, +began a long conversation. He asked her a great many +questions, some of them such funny ones, that she could not +help laughing, but she answered them all, and now and then so +that she made him laugh too. By the time the butler came to +say dinner was ready, she had almost forgotten she was a +stranger. Mr. Marshman himself led her to the dining-room, +begged the elder ladies would excuse him, but he felt bound to +give his attention to the greatest stranger in the company. He +placed her on his right hand, and took the greatest care of +her all dinner-time; once sending her plate the whole length +of the table for some particular little thing he thought she +would like. On the other side of Ellen sat Mrs. Chauncey, one +of Mr. Marshman's daughters; a lady with a sweet, gentle, +quiet face and manner, that made Ellen like to sit by her. +Another daughter, Mrs. Gillespie, had more of her mother's +stately bearing; the third, Miss Sophia, who met them first in +the hall, was very unlike both the others, but lively and +agreeable and good-humoured. + +Dinner gave place to the dessert, and that in its turn was +removed with the cloth. Ellen was engaged in munching almonds +and raisins, admiring the brightness of the mahogany, and the +richly-cut and coloured glass, and silver decanter-stands, +which were reflected in it; when a door at the further end of +the room half-opened, a little figure came partly in, and +holding the door in her hand, stood looking doubtfully along +the table, as if seeking for some one. + +"What is the matter, Ellen?" said Mrs. Chauncey. + +"Mrs. Bland told me, Mamma," she began, her eye not ceasing +its uneasy quest; but then breaking off and springing to +Alice's side, she threw her arms round her neck, and gave her, +certainly, the warmest of all the warm welcomes she had had +that day. + +"Hallo!" cried Mr. Marshman, rapping on the table; "that's too +much for any one's share. Come here, you baggage, and give me +just such another." + +The little girl came near accordingly, and hugged and kissed +him with a very good will, remarking, however, "Ah, but I've +seen you before to-day, Grandpapa!" + +"Well, here's somebody you've not seen before," said he, good- +humouredly, pulling her round to Ellen, "here's a new friend +for you a young lady from the great city, so you must brush +up your country manners. Miss Ellen Montgomery, come from +pshaw! what is it? come from " + +"London, Grandpapa?" said the little girl, as with a mixture +of simplicity and kindness she took Ellen's hand, and kissed +her on the cheek. + +"From Carra-carra, Sir," said Ellen, smiling. + +"Go along with you," said he, laughing, and pinching her +cheek. "Take her away, Ellen, take her away, and mind you take +good care of her. Tell Mrs. Bland she is one of grandpapa's +guests." + +The two children had not, however, reached the door, when +Ellen Chauncey exclaimed, "Wait oh, wait a minute! I must +speak to aunt Sophia about the bag." And, flying to her side, +there followed an earnest whispering, and then a nod and smile +from aunt Sophia; and, satisfied, Ellen returned to her +companion, and led her out of the dining-room. + +"We have both got the same name," said she, as they went along +a wide corridor; "how shall we know which is which?" + +"Why," said Ellen, laughing, "when you say 'Ellen,' I shall +know you mean me; and when I say it you will know I mean you. +I shouldn't be calling myself, you know." + +"Yes, but when somebody else calls 'Ellen,' we shall both have +to run. Do you run when you are called?" + +"Sometimes," said Ellen, laughing. + +"Ah, but I do always; Mamma always makes me. I thought perhaps +you were like Marianne Gillespie she waits often as much as +half a minute before she stirs, when anybody calls her. Did +you come with Miss Alice?" + +"Yes." + +"Do you love her?" + +"Very much! oh, very much!" + +Little Ellen looked at her companion's rising colour, with a +glance of mixed curiosity and pleasure, in which lay a strong +promise of growing love. + +"So do I," she answered, gaily; "I am very glad she is come, +and I am very glad you are come, too." + +The little speaker pushed open a door, and led Ellen into the +presence of a group of young people, rather older than +themselves. + +"Marianne," said she to one of them, a handsome girl of +fourteen, "this is Miss Ellen Montgomery she came with +Alice, and she is come to keep Christmas with us aren't you +glad? There'll be quite a parcel of us when what's-her-name +comes won't there?" + +Marianne shook hands with Ellen. + +"She is one of grandpapa's guests, I can tell you," said +little Ellen Chauncey; "and he says we must brush up our +country manners she's come from the great city." + +"Do you think we are a set of ignoramuses, Miss Ellen?" +inquired a well-grown boy of fifteen, who looked enough like +Marianne Gillespie to prove him her brother. + +"I don't know what that is," said Ellen. + +"Well, do they do things better in the great city than we do +here?" + +"I don't know how you do them here," said Ellen. + +"Don't you? Come! Stand out of my way, right and left, all of +you, will you? and give me a chance. Now then!" + +Conscious that he was amusing most of the party, he placed +himself gravely at a little distance from Ellen, and marching +solemnly up to her, bowed down to her knees then slowly +raising his head, stepped back. + +"Miss Ellen Montgomery, I am rejoiced to have the pleasure of +seeing you at Ventnor. Isn't that polite, now? Is that like +what you have been accustomed to, Miss Montgomery?" + +"No, Sir thank you," said Ellen, who laughed in spite of +herself. The mirth of the others redoubled. + +"May I request to be informed then," continued Gillespie, +"what is the fashion of making bows in the great city?" + +"I don't know," said Ellen; "I never saw a boy make a bow +before." + +"Humph! I guess country manners will do for you," said +William, turning on his heel. + +"You're giving her a pretty specimen of 'em, Bill," said +another boy. + +"For shame, William!" cried little Ellen Chauncey; "didn't I +tell you she was one of grandpapa's guests? Come here, Ellen, +I'll take you somewhere else." + +She seized Ellen's hand and pulled her towards the door, but +suddenly stopped again. + +"Oh, I forgot to tell you," she said; "I asked aunt Sophia +about the bag of moroccoes, and she said she would have 'em +early to-morrow morning, and then we can divide 'em right +away." + +"We mustn't divide 'em till Maggie comes," said Marianne. + +"Oh, no not till Maggie comes," said little Ellen; and then +ran off again. + +"I am so glad you are come!" said she; "the others are all so +much older, and they have all so much to do together and now +you can help me think what I will make for Mamma. Hush! don't +say a word about it!" + +They entered the large drawing-room, where old and young were +soon gathered for tea. The children, who had dined early, sat +down to a well-spread table, at which Miss Sophia presided; +the elder persons were standing or sitting in different parts +of the room. Ellen, not being hungry, had leisure to look +about her, and her eyes soon wandered from the tea-table in +search of her old friends. Alice was sitting by Mrs. Marshman, +talking with two other ladies; but Ellen smiled presently, as +she caught her eye from the far end of the room, and got a +little nod of recognition. John came up just then to set down +his coffee-cup, and asked her what she was smiling at. + +"That's city manners," said William Gillespie, "to laugh at +what's going on." + +"I have no doubt we shall all follow the example," said John +Humphreys, gravely, "if the young gentleman will try to give +us a smile." + +The young gentleman had just accommodated himself with an +outrageously large mouthful of bread and sweetmeats, and if +ever so well-disposed, compliance with the request was +impossible. None of the rest, however, not even his sister, +could keep their countenances, for the eye of the speaker had +pointed and sharpened his words; and William, very red in the +face, was understood to mumble, as soon as mumbling was +possible, that "he wouldn't laugh unless he had a mind to," +and a threat to "do something" to his tormentor. + +"Only not eat me," said John, with a shade of expression in +his look and tone which overcame the whole party, himself and +poor William alone retaining entire gravity. + +"What's all this? what's all this? what's all this laughing +about?" said old Mr. Marshman, coming up. + +"This young gentleman, Sir," said John, "has been endeavouring + with a mouthful of arguments to prove to us the +inferiority of city manners to those learned in the country." + +"Will," said the old gentleman, glancing doubtfully at +William's discomfited face; then added, sternly, "I don't care +where your manners were learned, Sir, but I advise you to be +very particular as to the sort you bring with you here. Now, +Sophia, let us have some music." + +He set the children a-dancing, and as Ellen did not know how, +he kept her by him, and kept her very much amused, too, in his +own way; then he would have her join in the dancing, and bade +Ellen Chauncey give her lessons. There was a little +backwardness at first, and then Ellen was jumping away with +the rest, and thinking it perfectly delightful, as Miss +Sophia's piano rattled out merry jigs and tunes, and little +feet flew over the floor as light as the hearts they belonged +to. At eight o'clock the young ones were dismissed, and bade +good-night to their elders; and, pleased with the kind kiss +Mrs. Marshman had given her, as well as her little +granddaughter, Ellen went off to bed very happy. + +The room to which her companion led her was the very picture +of comfort. It was not too large, furnished with plain, old- +fashioned furniture, and lighted and warmed by a cheerful +wood-fire. The very old brass-headed hand-irons that stretched +themselves out upon the hearth with such a look of being at +home, seemed to say, "You have come to the right place for +comfort." A little, dark, mahogany book-case in one place an +odd toilet-table of the same stuff in another; and opposite +the fire an old-fashioned high-post bedstead, with its +handsome Marseilles quilt and ample pillows, looked very +tempting. Between this and the far side of the room, in the +corner, another bed was spread on the floor. + +"This is aunt Sophia's room," said little Ellen Chauncey; +"this is where you are to sleep." + +"And where will Alice be?" said the other Ellen. + +"Oh, she'll sleep here, in this bed, with aunt Sophia; that is +because the house is so full, you know; and here is your +bed, here on the floor. Oh, delicious! I wish I was going to +sleep here! Don't you love to sleep on the floor? I do. I +think it's fun." + +Anybody might have thought it fun to sleep on that bed, for, +instead of a bedstead, it was luxuriously piled on mattresses. +The two children sat down together on the foot of it. + +"This is aunt Sophia's room," continued little Ellen, "and +next to it, out of that door, is our dressing-room, and next +to that is where Mamma and I sleep. Do you undress and dress +yourself?" + +"To be sure I do," said Ellen "always." + +"So do I; but Marianne Gillespie won't even put on her shoes +and stockings for herself." + +"Who does it, then?" said Ellen. + +"Why, Lester aunt Matilda's maid. Mamma sent away her maid +when we came here, and she says if she had fifty she would +like me to do everything I can for myself. I shouldn't think +it was pleasant to have any one put on one's shoes and +stockings for you, should you?" + +"No, indeed," said Ellen. "Then you live here all the time?" + +"Oh, yes ever since papa didn't come back from that long +voyage we live here since then." + +"Is he coming back soon?" + +"No," said little Ellen, gravely "he never will came back +he never will come back any more." + +Ellen was sorry she had asked, and both children were silent +for a minute. + +"I'll tell you what," said little Ellen, jumping up "Mamma +said we mustn't sit up too long talking, so I'll run and get +my things and bring 'em here, and we can undress together; +won't that be a nice way?" + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +Scraps of Morocco and talk. + + +Left alone in the strange room with the flickering fire, how +quickly Ellen's thoughts left Ventnor and flew over the sea! +They often travelled that road, it is true, but now perhaps +the very home-look of everything, where yet _she_ was not at +home, might have sent them. There was a bitter twinge or two, +and for a minute Ellen's head drooped. "To-morrow will be +Christmas-eve _last_ Christmas-eve oh, Mamma!" + +Little Ellen Chauncey soon came back, and sitting down beside +her on the foot of the bed, began the business of undressing. + +"Don't you love Christmas time?" said she; "I think it's the +pleasantest in all the year; we always have a houseful of +people, and such fine times. But then in summer I think _that's_ +the pleasantest. I s'pose they're all pleasant. Do you hang up +your stocking?" + +"No," said Ellen. + +"Don't you! why, I always did, ever since I can remember. I +used to think, when I was a little girl, you know," said she, +laughing "I used to think that Santa Claus came down the +chimney, and I used to hang up my stocking as near the fire- +place as I could; but I know better than that now; I don't +care where I hang it. You know who Santa Claus is, don't you?" + +"He's nobody," said Ellen. + +"Oh, yes, he is he's a great many people he's whoever +gives you anything. _My_ Santa Claus is Mamma, and Grandpapa, +and Grandmamma, and Aunt Sophia, and Aunt Matilda; and I +thought I should have had Uncle George, too, this Christmas, +but he couldn't come. Uncle Howard never gives me anything. I +am sorry Uncle George couldn't come; I like him the best of +all my uncles." + +"I never had anybody but Mamma to give me presents," said +Ellen, "and she never gave me much more at Christmas than at +other times." + +"I used to have presents from Mamma and Grandpapa, too, both +Christmas and New Year, but now I have grown so old, Mamma +only gives me something Christmas and Grandpapa only New Year. +It would be too much, you know, for me to have both when my +presents are so big. I don't believe a stocking will hold 'em +much longer. But oh! we've got such a fine plan in our heads," +said little Ellen, lowering her voice, and speaking with open +eyes and great energy "_we_ are going to make presents this +year! we children won't it be fine? we are going to make +what we like for anybody we choose, and let nobody know +anything about it; and then New Year's morning, you know, when +the things are all under the napkins, we will give ours to +somebody to put where they belong, and nobody will know +anything about them till they see them there. Won't it be +fine? I'm so glad you are here, for I want you to tell me what +I shall make." + +"Who is it for?" said Ellen. + +"Oh, Mamma! you know I can't make for everybody, so I think I +had rather it should be for Mamma. I _thought_ of making her a +needle-book with white backs, and getting Gilbert Gillespie to +paint them he can paint beautifully and having her name +and something else written very nicely inside; how do you +think that would do?" + +"I should think it would do very nicely," said Ellen "very +nicely, indeed." + +"I wish Uncle George was at home, though, to write it for me +he writes so beautifully; I can't do it well enough." + +"I am afraid I can't either," said Ellen. "Perhaps somebody +else can." + +"I don't know who. Aunt Sophia scribbles and scratches, and +besides, I don't want her to know anything about it. But +there's another thing I don't know how to fix, and that's the +edges of the leaves the leaves for the needles they must +be fixed somehow." + +"I can show you how to do that," said Ellen, brightening; +"Mamma had a needlebook that was given to her that had the +edges beautifully fixed; and I wanted to know how it was done, +and she showed me. I'll show you that. It takes a good while, +but that's no matter." + +"Oh, thank you; how nice that is! Oh no, that's no matter. And +then it will do very well, won't it? Now, if I can only catch +Gilbert in a good humour he isn't my cousin he's +Marianne's cousin that big boy you saw down-stairs he's so +big he won't have anything to say to me, sometimes, but I +guess I'll get him to do this. Don't you want to make +something for somebody?" + +Ellen _had_ had one or two feverish thoughts on this subject +since the beginning of the conversation, but she only said + +"It's no matter you know I haven't got anything here; and +besides, I shall not be here till New Year." + +"Not here till New Year! yes, you shall," said little Ellen, +throwing herself upon her neck; "indeed you aren't going away +before that. I know you aren't I heard Grandmamma and Aunt +Sophia talking about it. Say you will stay here till New Year + do!" + +"I should like to, very much indeed," said Ellen, "if Alice +does." + +In the midst of half a dozen kisses with which her little +companion rewarded this speech, somebody close by said, +pleasantly + +"What time of night do you suppose it is?" + +The girls started there was Mrs. Chauncey. + +"Oh, Mamma!" exclaimed her little daughter, springing to her +feet, "I hope you haven't heard what we have been talking +about?" + +"Not a word," said Mrs. Chauncey, smiling; "but as to-morrow +will be long enough to talk in, hadn't you better go to bed +now?" + +Her daughter obeyed her immediately, after one more hug to +Ellen, and telling her she was _so_ glad she had come. Mrs. +Chauncey stayed to see Ellen in bed, and press one kind, +motherly kiss upon her face, so tenderly that Ellen's eyes +were moistened as she withdrew. But in her dreams that night, +the rosy, sweet face, blue eyes, and little plump figure of +Ellen Chauncey played the greatest part. + +She slept till Alice was obliged to waken her the next +morning; and then got up with her head in a charming confusion +of, pleasures past and pleasures to come things known and +unknown, to be made for everybody's New Year presents linen +collars and painted needlebooks; and no sooner was breakfast +over than she was showing and explaining to Ellen Chauncey a +particularly splendid and mysterious way of embroidering the +edges of needlebook leaves. Deep in this, they were still an +hour afterwards, and in the comparative merits of purple and +rose-colour, when a little hubbub arose at the other end of +the room, on the arrival of a new-comer. Ellen Chauncey looked +up from her work, then dropped it, exclaiming, "There she is! + now for the bag!" and pulled Ellen along with her towards +the party. A young lady was in the midst of it, talking so +fast, that she had not time to take off her cloak and bonnet. +As her eye met Ellen's, however, she came to a sudden pause. +It was Margaret Dunscombe. Ellen's face certainly showed no +pleasure; Margaret's darkened with a very disagreeable +surprise. + +"My goodness! Ellen Montgomery! how on earth did you get +_here?_" + +"Do you know her?" asked one of the girls, as the two Ellens +went off after "Aunt Sophia." + +"Do I know her? Yes just enough exactly. How did she get +here?" + +"Miss Humphreys brought her." + +"Who's Miss Humphreys?" + +"Hush!" said Marianne, lowering her tone "that's her brother +in the window." + +"Whose brother? hers or Miss Humphreys'?" + +"Miss Humphreys'. Did you never see her? She is here, or has +been here, a great deal of the time. Grandma calls her her +fourth daughter; and she is just as much at home as if she +was; and she brought her here." + +"And she's at home, too, I suppose. Well, it's no business of +mine." + +"What do you know of her?" + +"Oh, enough that's just it don't want to know any more." + +"Well, you needn't; but what's the matter with her?" + +"Oh, I don't know. I'll tell you some other time she's a +conceited little piece. We had the care of her coming up the +river that's how I come to know about her; Ma said it was +the last child she would be bothered with in that way." + +Presently the two girls came back, bring word to clear the +table, for Aunt Sophia was coming with the moroccoes. As soon +as she came, Ellen Chauncey sprang to her neck and whispered +an earnest question. "Certainly!" Aunt Sophia said, as she +poured out the contents of the bag; and her little niece +delightedly told Ellen _she_ was to have her share as well as +the rest. + +The table was now strewn with pieces of morocco, of all sizes +and colours, which were hastily turned over and examined with +eager hands and sparkling eyes. Some were mere scraps, to be +sure; but others showed a breadth and length of beauty which +was declared to be "first-rate," and "fine;" and one beautiful +large piece of blue morocco in particular was made up in +imagination by two or three of the party in as many different +ways. Marianne wanted it for a book-cover; Margaret declared +she could make a lovely reticule with it; and Ellen could not +help thinking it would make a very pretty needlebox, such a +one as she had seen in the possession of one of the girls, and +longed to make for Alice. + +"Well, what's to be done now?" said Miss Sophia "or am I not +to know?" + +"Oh, you're not to know you're not to know, Aunt Sophy," +cried the girls "you mustn't ask." + +"I'll tell you what they are going to do with 'em," said +George Walsh, coming up to her with a mischievous face, and +adding in a loud whisper, shielding his mouth with his hand +"they're going to make pr " + +He was laid hold of forcibly by the whole party, screaming and +laughing, and stopped short from finishing his speech. + +"Well, then, I'll take my departure," said Miss Sophia "but +how will you manage to divide all these scraps!" + +"Suppose we were to put them in the bag again, and you hold +the bag, and we were to draw them out without looking," said +Ellen Chauncey "as we used to do with the sugar-plums." + +As no better plan was thought of, this was agreed upon; and +little Ellen shutting up her eyes very tight, stuck in her +hand and pulled out a little bit of green morocco about the +size of a dollar. Ellen Montgomery came next; then Margaret, +then Marianne, then their mutual friend Isabel Hawthorn. Each +had to take her turn a great many times; and at the end of the +drawing, the pieces were found to be pretty equally divided +among the party, with the exception of Ellen, who, besides +several other good pieces, had drawn the famous blue. + +"That will do very nicely," said little Ellen Chauncey "I am +glad you have got that, Ellen. Now, Aunt Sophy! one thing +more you know the silks and ribbons you promised us?" + +"Bless me! I haven't done yet, eh? Well, you shall have them; +but we are all going out to walk now; I'll give them to you +this afternoon. Come! put these away, and get on your bonnets +and cloaks." + +A hard measure! but it was done. After the walk came dinner; +after dinner, Aunt Sophia had to be found and waited on, till +she had fairly sought out and delivered to their hands the +wished-for bundles of silks and satins. It gave great +satisfaction. + +"But how shall we do about dividing these?" said little Ellen + "shall we draw lots again?" + +"No, Ellen," said Marianne, "that won't do, because we might +every one get just the thing we do not want. I want one colour +or stuff to go with my morocco, and you want another to go +with yours; and you might get mine and I might get yours. We +had best each choose in turn what we like, beginning at +Isabel." + +"Very well," said little Ellen "I'm agreed." + +"Anything for a quiet life," said George Walsh. + +But this business of choosing was found to be very long and +very difficult, each one was so fearful of not taking the +exact piece she wanted most. The elder members of the family +began to gather for dinner, and several came and stood round +the table where the children were; little noticed by them, +they were so wrapped up in silks and satins. Ellen seemed the +least interested person at table, and had made her selections +with the least delay and difficulty; and now, as it was not +her turn, sat very soberly looking on, with her head resting +on her hand. + +"I declare it's too vexatious!" said Margaret Dunscombe +"here I've got this beautiful piece of blue satin, and can't +do anything with it; it just matches that blue morocco it's +a perfect match I could have made a splendid thing of it, +and I have got some cord and tassels that would just do I +declare it's too bad!" + +Ellen's colour changed. + +"Well, choose, Margaret," said Marianne. + +"I don't know what to choose that's the thing. What can one +do with red and purple morocco and blue satin? I might as well +give up. I've a great notion to take this piece of yellow +satin, and dress up a Turkish doll to frighten the next young +one I meet with." + +"I wish you would, Margaret, and give it to me when it's +done," cried little Ellen Chauncey. + +" 'Tain't made yet," said the other dryly. + +Ellen's colour had changed and changed; her hand twitched +nervously, and she glanced uneasily from Margaret's store of +finery to her own. + +"Come, choose, Margaret," said Ellen Chauncey; "I dare say +Ellen wants the blue morocco as much as you do." + +"No, I don't!" said Ellen, abruptly, throwing it over the +table to her; "take it, Margaret, you may have it." + +"What do you mean?" said the other, astounded. + +"I mean you may have it," said Ellen "I don't want it." + +"Well, I'll tell you what," said the other "I'll give you +yellow satin for it or some of my red morocco!" + +"No, I had rather not," repeated Ellen; "I don't want it you +may have it." + +"Very generously done," remarked Miss Sophia; "I hope you'll +all take a lesson in the art of being obliging." + +"Quite a noble little girl," said Mrs. Gillespie. + +Ellen crimsoned. "No, Ma'am, I am not, indeed," she said, +looking at them with eyes that were filling fast; "please +don't say so I don't deserve it." + +"I shall say what I think, my dear," said Mrs. Gillespie, +smiling; "but I am glad you add the grace of modesty to that +of generosity; it is the more uncommon of the two." + +"I am not modest! I am not generous! you mustn't say so," +cried Ellen. She struggled; the blood rushed to the surface, +suffusing every particle of skin that could be seen; then left +it, as with eyes cast down she went on "I don't deserve to +be praised it was more Margaret's than mine. I oughtn't to +have kept it at all for I saw a little bit when I put my +hand in. I didn't mean to, but I did!" + +Raising her eyes hastily to Alice's face, they met those of +John, who was standing behind her. She had not counted upon +him for one of her listeners; she knew Mrs. Gillespie, Mrs. +Chauncey, Miss Sophia, and Alice, had heard her; but this was +the one drop too much. Her head sunk; she covered her face a +moment, and then made her escape out of the room, before even +Ellen could follow her. + +There was a moment's silence. Alice seemed to have some +difficulty not to follow Ellen's example. Margaret pouted; +Mrs. Chauncey's eyes filled with tears and her little daughter +seemed divided between doubt and dismay. Her first move, +however, was to run off in pursuit of Ellen. Alice went after +her. + +"Here's a beautiful example of honour and honesty for you!" +said Margaret Dunscombe, at length. + +"I think it is," observed John, quietly. + +"An uncommon instance," said Mrs. Chauncey. + +"I am glad everybody thinks so," said Margaret, sullenly; "I +hope I shan't copy it, that's all." + +"I think you are in no danger," said John, again. + +"Very well!" said Margaret, who, between her desire of +speaking and her desire of concealing her vexation, did not +know what to do with herself; "everybody must judge for +himself, I suppose; I've got enough of her, for my part." + +"Where did you ever see her before?" said Isabel Hawthorn. + +"Oh, she came up the river with us Mamma had to take care of +her she was with us two days." + +"And didn't you like her?" + +"No, I guess I didn't! she was a perfect plague. All the day +on board the steamboat she scarcely came near us; we couldn't +pretend to keep sight of her; Mamma had to send her maid out +to look after her, I don't know how many times. She scraped +acquaintance with some strange man on board, and liked his +company better than ours, for she stayed with him the whole +blessed day, waking and sleeping; of course Mamma didn't like +it at all. She didn't go to a single meal with us; you know, +of course, that wasn't proper behaviour." + +"No, indeed," said Isabel. + +"I suppose," said John, coolly, "she chose the society she +thought the pleasantest. Probably Miss Margaret's politeness +was more than she had been accustomed to." + +Margaret coloured, not quite knowing what to make of the +speaker or his speech. + +"It would take much to make me believe," said gentle Mrs. +Chauncey, "that a child of such refined and delicate feeling +as that little girl evidently has, could take pleasure in +improper company." + +Margaret had a reply at her tongue's end, but she had also an +uneasy feeling that there were eyes not far off too keen of +sight to be baffled; she kept silence till the group +dispersed, and she had an opportunity of whispering in +Marianne's ear that "_that_ was the very most disagreeable man +she had ever seen in her life." + +"What a singular fancy you have taken to this little pet of +Alice's, Mr. John!" said Mrs. Marshman's youngest daughter. +"You quite surprise me." + +"Did you think me a misanthrope, Miss Sophia?" + +"Oh, no, not at all; but I always had a notion you would not +be easily pleased in the choice of favourites." + +"_Easily!_ When a simple, intelligent child of twelve or +thirteen is a common character, then I will allow that I am +easily pleased." + +"Twelve or thirteen!" said Miss Sophia; "what are you thinking +about? Alice says she is only ten or eleven." + +"In years perhaps." + +"How gravely you take me up!" said the young lady, laughing. +"My dear Mr. John, 'in years perhaps,' you may call yourself +twenty, but in everything else you might much better pass for +thirty or forty." + +As they were called to dinner, Alice and Ellen Chauncey came +back; the former looking a little serious, the latter crying, +and wishing aloud that all the moroccoes had been in the fire. +They had not been able to find Ellen. Neither was she in the +drawing-room when they returned to it after dinner; and a +second search was made in vain. John went to the library, +which was separate from the other rooms, thinking she might +have chosen that for a hiding-place. She was not there; but +the pleasant light of the room, where only the fire was +burning, invited a stay. He sat down in the deep window, and +was musingly looking out into the moonlight, when the door +softly opened, and Ellen came in. She stole in noiselessly, so +that he did not hear her, and _she_ thought the room empty, till +in passing slowly down towards the fire she came upon him in +the window. Her start first let him know she was there; she +would have run, but one of her hands was caught, and she could +not get it away. + +"Running away from your brother, Ellie!" said he, kindly; +"what is the matter?" + +Ellen shrunk from meeting his eye, and was silent. + +"I know all, Ellie, said he, still very kindly "I have seen +all why do you shun me?" + +Ellen said nothing; the big tears began to run down her face +and frock. + +"You are taking this matter too hardly, dear Ellen," he said, +drawing her close to him; "you did wrong, but you have done +all you could to repair the wrong neither man nor woman can +do more than that." + +But though encouraged by his manner, the tears flowed faster +than ever. + +"Where have you been? Alice was looking for you, and little +Ellen Chauncey was in great trouble. I don't know what +dreadful thing she thought you had done with yourself. Come! +lift up your head, and let me see you smile again." + +Ellen lifted her head but could not her eyes, though she tried +to smile. + +"I want to talk to you a little about this," said he. "You +know you gave me leave to be your brother will you let me +ask you a question or two?" + +"Oh, yes whatever he pleased," Ellen said. + +"Then sit down here," said he, making room for her on the wide +window-seat, but still keeping hold of her hand and speaking +very gently. "You said you saw when you took the morocco I +don't quite understand how was it?" + +"Why," said Ellen, "we were not to look, and we had gone three +times round, and nobody had got that large piece yet, and we +all wanted it; and I did not mean to look at all, but I don't +know how it was, just before I shut my eyes I happened to see +the corner of it sticking up, and then I took it." + +"With your eyes open?" + +"No, no, with them shut. And I had scarcely got it when I was +sorry for it, and wished it back." + +"You will wonder at me, perhaps, Ellie," said John, "but I am +not very sorry this has happened. You are no worse than +before; it has only made you see what you are very, very +weak quite unable to keep yourself right without constant +help. Sudden temptation was too much for you so it has many +a time been for me, and so it has happened to the best men on +earth. I suppose if you had had a minute's time to think, you +would not have done as you did?" + +"No, indeed!" said Ellen. "I was sorry a minute after." + +"And I dare say the thought of it weighed upon your mind ever +since?" + +"Oh, yes!" said Ellen; "it wasn't out of my head a minute the +whole day." + +"Then let it make you very humble, dear Ellie, and let it make +you in future keep close to our dear Saviour, without whose +help we cannot stand a moment." + +Ellen sobbed; and he allowed her to do so for a few minutes, +then said + +"But you have not been thinking much about Him, Ellie?" + +The sobs ceased; he saw his words had taken hold. + +"Is it right," he said, softly, "that we should be more +troubled about what people will think of us, than for having +displeased or dishonoured Him?" + +Ellen now looked up, and in her look was all the answer he +wished. + +"You understand me, I see," said he. "Be humbled in the dust +before him the more the better; but whenever we are greatly +concerned, for our own sakes, about other people's opinion, we +may be sure we are thinking too little of God and what will +please him." + +"I am very sorry," said poor Ellen, from whose eyes the tears +began to drop again "I am very wrong: but I couldn't bear to +think what Alice would think and you and all of them." + +"Here's Alice to speak for herself," said John. + +As Alice came up with a quick step and knelt down before her, +Ellen sprang to her neck, and they held each other very fast +indeed. John walked up and down the room. Presently he stopped +before them. + +"All's well again," said Alice, "and we are going in to tea." + +He smiled and held out his hand, which Ellen took, but he +would not leave the library, declaring they had a quarter of +an hour still. So they sauntered up and down the long room, +talking of different things, so pleasantly, that Ellen near +forgot her troubles. Then came in Miss Sophia to find them, +and then Mr. Marshman, and Marianne to call them to tea; so +the going into the drawing-room was not half so bad as Ellen +thought it would be. + +She behaved very well; her face was touchingly humble that +night; and all the evening she kept fast by either Alice or +John, without budging an inch. And as little Ellen Chauncey +and her cousin George Walsh chose to be where she was, the +young party was quite divided; and not the least merry portion +of it was that mixed with the older people. Little Ellen was +half beside herself with spirits; the secret of which, +perhaps, was the fact, which she several times in the course +of the evening whispered to Ellen as a great piece of news, +that "it was Christmas eve!" + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +Stockings, to which the "Bas Bleu" was nothing. + + +Christmas morning was dawning gray, but it was still far from +broad daylight, when Ellen was awakened. She found little +Ellen Chauncey pulling and pushing at her shoulders, and +whispering "Ellen! Ellen!" in a tone that showed a great fear +of waking somebody up. There she was, in nightgown and +nightcap, and barefooted, too, with a face brimfull of +excitement, and as wide awake as possible. Ellen roused +herself in no little surprise, and asked what the matter was. + +"I am going to look at my stocking," whispered her visitor; +"don't you want to get up and come with me? it's just here in +the other room; come! don't make any noise." + +"But what if you should find nothing in it?" said Ellen, +laughingly, as she bounded out of bed. + +"Ah, but I shall, I know; I always do never fear. Hush! step +ever so softly I don't want to wake anybody." + +"It's hardly light enough for you to see," whispered Ellen, as +the two little barefooted white figures glided out of the +room. + +"Oh, yes, it is that's all the fun. Hush! don't make a bit +of noise I know where it hangs Mamma always puts it at the +back of her big easy-chair; come this way here it is! Oh, +Ellen! there's two of 'em! There's one for you! there's one +for you!" + + +In a tumult of delight, one Ellen capered about the floor on +the tips of her bare toes, while the other, not less happy, +stood still for pleasure. The dancer finished by hugging and +kissing her with all her heart, declaring she was so glad, she +didn't know what to do. + +"But how shall we know which is which?" + +"Perhaps they are both alike," said Ellen. + +"No at any rate, one's for me, and t'other's for you. Stop! +here are pieces of paper, with our names, on I guess let's +turn the chair a little bit to the light there yes! +Ellen M-o-n there, that's yours; my name doesn't begin with +an M; and this is mine!" + +Another caper round the room, and then she brought up in front +of the chair, where Ellen was still standing. + +"I wonder what's in 'em," she said; "I want to look, and I +don't want, too. Come, you begin." + +"But that's no stocking of mine," said Ellen, a smile +gradually breaking upon her sober little face; "my leg never +was as big as that." + +"Stuffed, isn't it?" said Ellen Chauncey. "Oh, do make haste, +and see what is in yours. I want to know so, I don't know what +to do." + +"Well, will you take out of yours as fast as I take out of +mine?" + +"Well!" + +Oh, mysterious delight, and delightful mystery, of the stuffed +stocking! Ellen's trembling fingers sought the top, and then +very suddenly left it. + +"I can't think what it is," said she, laughing "it feels so +funny." + +"Oh, never mind! make haste," said Ellen Chauncey; "it won't +hurt you, I guess." + +"No, it won't hurt me," said Ellen, "but" + +She drew forth a great bunch of white grapes. + +"Splendid! isn't it?" said Ellen Chauncey. "Now for mine." + +It was the counterpart of Ellen's bunch. + +"So far, so good," said she. "Now for the next." + +The next thing in each stocking was a large horn of sugar- +plums. + +"Well, that's fine, isn't it?" said Ellen Chauncey "yours is +tied with white ribbon, and mine with blue; that's all the +difference. Oh! and your paper's red and mine is purple." + +"Yes, and the pictures are different," said Ellen. + +"Well, I had rather they would be different wouldn't you? I +think it's just as pleasant. One's as big as the other at any +rate. Come, what's next?" + +Ellen drew out a little bundle, which, being opened, proved to +be a nice little pair of dark kid gloves. + +"Oh, I wonder who gave me this!" she said "it's just what I +wanted. How pretty! oh, I'm so glad! I guess who it was." + +"Oh, look here," said the other Ellen, who had been diving +into her stocking "I've got a ball this is just what I +wanted, too; George told me if I'd get one he'd show me how to +play. Isn't it pretty? Isn't it funny we should each get just +what we wanted? Oh, this is a very nice ball. I'm glad I've +got it. Why, here is another great round thing in my stocking! + what can it be? they wouldn't give me two balls," said +she, chuckling. + +"So there is in mine!" said Ellen. "Maybe they're apples?" + +"They aren't! they wouldn't give us apples; besides, it is +soft. Pull it out and see." + +"Then they are oranges," said Ellen laughing. + +"I never felt such a soft orange," said little Ellen Chauncey. +"Come, Ellen! stop laughing, and let's see." + +They were two great scarlet satin pincushions, with E. C. and +E. M., very neatly stuck in pins. + +"Well, we shan't want pins for a good while, shall we?" said +Ellen. "Who gave us these?" + +"I know," said little Ellen Chauncey "Mrs. Bland." + +"She was very kind to make one for me," said Ellen. "Now for +the next!" + +Her next thing was a little bottle of Cologne water. + +"I can tell who put that in," said her friend "Aunt Sophia. +I know her little bottles of Cologne water. Do you love +Cologne water? Aunt Sophia's is delicious." + +Ellen did like it very much, and was extremely pleased. Ellen +Chauncey had also a new pair of scissors, which gave entire +satisfaction. + +"Now, I wonder what all this toe is stuffed with," said she, +"raisins and almonds, I declare! and yours the same, isn't +it? Well, don't you think we have got enough sweet things? +Isn't this a pretty good Christmas?" + +"What are you about, you monkeys?" cried the voice of Aunt +Sophia, from the dressing-room door. "Alice, Alice! do look at +them. Come right back to bed, both of you. Crazy pates! It is +lucky it is Christmas day if it was any other in the year, +we should have you both sick in bed; as it is, I suppose you +will go scot free." + +Laughing, and rosy with pleasure, they came back and got into +bed together; and for an hour afterwards the two kept up a +most animated conversation, intermixed with long chuckles and +bursts of merriment, and whispered communications of immense +importance. The arrangement of the painted needlebook was +entirely decided upon in this consultation; also two or three +other matters; and the two children seemed to have already +lived a day since day-break by the time they came down to +breakfast. + +After breakfast, Ellen applied secretly to Alice, to know if +she could write _very_ beautifully she exceedingly wanted +something done. + +"I should not like to venture, Ellie, if it must be so +superfine; but John can do it for you." + +"Can he? Do you think he would?" + +"I am sure he will, if you ask him." + +"But I don't like to ask him," said Ellen, casting a doubtful +glance at the window. + +"Nonsense, he's only reading the newspaper. You won't disturb +him." + +"Well, you won't say anything about it?" + +"Certainly not." + +Ellen accordingly went near, and said, gently, "Mr. +Humphreys!" but he did not seem to hear her. "Mr. +Humphreys!" a little louder. + +"He has not arrived yet," said John, looking round gravely. + +He spoke so gravely, that Ellen could not tell whether he were +joking or serious. Her face of extreme perplexity was too much +for his command of countenance. + +"Whom do you want to speak to?" said he, smiling. + +"I wanted to speak to you, Sir," said Ellen, "if you are not +too busy." + +"_Mr. Humphreys_ is always busy," said he, shaking his head; +"but _Mr. John_ can attend to you at any time, and _John_ will do +for you whatever you please to ask him." + +"Then, Mr. John," said Ellen, laughing, "if you please, I +wanted to ask you to do something for me, very much indeed, if +you are not too busy; Alice said I shouldn't disturb you." + +"Not at all; I've been long enough over this stupid newspaper. +What is it?" + +"I want you, if you will be so good," said Ellen, "to write a +little bit for me on something, very beautifully." + +" 'Very beautifully!' Well come to the library; we will +see." + +"But it is a great secret," said Ellen; "you won't tell +anybody?" + +"Tortures shan't draw it from me when I know what it is," +said he, with one of his comical looks. + +In high glee, Ellen ran for the pieces of Bristol board which +were to form the backs of the needlebook, and brought them to +the library; and explained how room was to be left in the +middle of each for a painting, a rose on one, a butterfly on +the other; the writing to be as elegant as possible, above, +beneath, and roundabout, as the fancy of the writer should +choose. + +"Well, what is to be inscribed on this most original of +needlebooks?" said John, as he carefully mended his pen. + +"Stop!" said Ellen "I'll tell you in a minute. On this one, +the front, you know, is to go, 'To my dear mother, many happy +New Years;' and on this side, 'From her dear little +daughter, Ellen Chauncey.' You know," she added, "Mrs. +Chauncey isn't to know anything about it till New Year's day; +nor anybody else." + +"Trust me," said John. "If I am asked any questions, they +shall find me as obscure as an oracle." + +"What is an oracle, Sir?" + +"Why," said John, smiling "this pen won't do yet the old +heathens believed there were certain spots on earth to which +some of their gods had more favour than to others, and where +they would permit mortals to come nearer to them, and would +even deign to answer their questions." + +"And did they?" said Ellen. + +"Did they what?" + +"Did they answer their questions?" + +"Did _who_ answer their questions?" + +"The oh, to be sure," said Ellen, "there were no such gods. +But what made people think they answered them? and how could +they ask questions?" + +"I suppose it was a contrivance of the priests, to increase +their power and wealth. There was always a temple built near, +with priests and priestesses; the questions were put through +them; and they would not ask them except on great occasions, +or for people of consequence, who could pay them well, by +making splendid gifts to the god." + +"But I should think the people would have thought the priest +or priestess had made up the answers themselves." + +"Perhaps they did, sometimes. But people had not the Bible +then, and did not know as much as we know. It was not +unnatural to think the gods would care a little for the poor +people that lived on the earth. Besides, there was a good deal +of management and trickery about the answers of the oracle, +that helped to deceive." + +"How was it?" said Ellen; "how could they manage, and what +was the _oracle?_" + +"The oracle was either the answer itself, or the god who was +supposed to give it, or the place where it was given; and +there were different ways of managing. At one place the priest +hid himself in the hollow body or among the branches of an +oak-tree, and people thought the tree spoke to them. Sometimes +the oracle was delivered by a woman, who pretended to be put +into a kind of fit tearing her hair and beating her breast." + +"But suppose the oracle made a mistake what would the people +think then?" + +"The answers were generally contrived so that they would seem +to come true in any event." + +"I don't see how they could do that," said Ellen. + +"Very well just imagine that I am an oracle, and come to me +with some question; I'll answer you." + +"But you can't tell what's going to happen?" + +"No matter you ask me truly, and I'll answer you +oracularly." + +"That means, like an oracle, I suppose?" said Ellen. "Well, +Mr. John, will Alice be pleased with what I am going to give +her New Year?" + +"She will be pleased with what she will receive on that day." + +"Ah, but," said Ellen, laughing, "that isn't fair; you haven't +answered me; perhaps somebody else will give her something, +and then she might be pleased with that, and not with mine." + +"Exactly but the oracle never means to be understood." + +"Well, I won't come to you," said Ellen. "I don't like such +answers. Now for the needlebook!" + +Breathlessly she looked on while the skilful pen did its work; +and her exclamations of delight and admiration when the first +cover was handed to her were not loud but deep. + +"It will do, then, will it? Now let us see 'From her dear +little daughter' there; now, 'Ellen Chauncey,' I suppose, +must be in hieroglyphics." + +"In what?" said Ellen. + +"I mean, written in some difficult character." + +"Yes," said Ellen. "But what was that you said?" + +"Hieroglyphics." + +Ellen added no more, though she was not satisfied. He looked +up, and smiled. + +"Do you want to know what that means?" + +"Yes, if you please," said Ellen. + +The pen was laid down while he explained, to a most eager +little listener. Even the great business of the moment was +forgotten. From hieroglyphics they went to the pyramids; and +Ellen had got to the top of one, and was enjoying the prospect +(in imagination), when she suddenly came down to tell John of +her stuffed stocking and its contents. The pen went on again, +and came to the end of the writing by the time Ellen had got +to the toe of the stocking. + +"Wasn't it very strange they should give me so many things?" +said she; "people that don't know me?" + +"Why, no," said John, smiling "I cannot say I think it was +_very_ strange. Is this all the business you had for my hands?" + +"This is all; and I am _very_ much obliged to you, Mr. John." + +Her grateful, affectionate eye said much more, and he felt +well paid. + +Gilbert was next applied to, to paint the rose and the +butterfly, which, finding so excellent a beginning made in the +work, he was very ready to do. The girls were then free to set +about the embroidery of the leaves, which was by no means the +business of an hour. + +A very happy Christmas day was that. With their needles and +thimbles, and rose-coloured silk, they kept by themselves in a +corner, or in the library, out of the way; and sweetening +their talk with a sugar-plum now and then, neither tongues nor +needles knew any flagging. It was wonderful what they found so +much to say, but there was no lack. Ellen Chauncey especially +was inexhaustible. Several times, too, that day, the Cologne +bottle was handled, the gloves looked at and fondled, the ball +tried, and the new scissors extolled as "just the thing for +their work." Ellen attempted to let her companion into the +mystery of oracles and hieroglyphics, but was fain to give it +up; little Ellen showed a decided preference for American, not +to say Ventnor, subjects, where she felt more at home. + +Then came Mr. Humphreys; and Ellen was glad, both for her own +sake and because she loved to see Alice pleased. Then came the +great merry Christmas dinner, when the girls had not talked +themselves out, but tired themselves with working. Young and +old dined together to-day, and the children not set by +themselves, but scattered among the grown-up people; and as +Ellen was nicely placed between Alice and little Ellen +Chauncey, she enjoyed it all very much. The large long table +surrounded with happy faces; tones of cheerfulness, and looks +of kindness, and lively talk; the superb display of plate and +glass and china; the stately dinner; and last, but not least, +the plum-pudding. There was sparkling wine, too, and a great +deal of drinking of healths; but Ellen noticed that Alice and +her brother smilingly drank all theirs in water; so, when old +Mr. Marshman called to her to "hold out her glass," she held +it out, to be sure, and let him fill it, but she lifted her +tumbler of water to her lips instead, after making him a very +low bow. Mr. Marshman laughed at her a great deal, and asked +her if she was "a proselyte to the new notions;" and Ellen +laughed with him, without having the least idea what he meant, +and was extremely happy. It was very pleasant, too, when they +went into the drawing-room to take coffee. The young ones were +permitted to have coffee to-night as a great favour. Old Mrs. +Marshman had the two little ones on either side of her, and +was so kind, and held Ellen's hand in her own, and talked to +her about her mother, till Ellen loved her. + +After tea there was a great call for games, and young and old +joined in them. They played the Old Curiosity Shop; and Ellen +thought Mr. John's curiosities could not be matched. They +played the Old Family Coach, Mr. Howard Marshman being the +manager, and Ellen laughed till she was tired; she was the +coach door, and he kept her opening and shutting, and swinging +and breaking, it seemed all the while, though most of the rest +were worked just as hard. When they were well tired, they sat +down to rest and hear music, and Ellen enjoyed that +exceedingly. Alice sang, and Mrs. Gillespie, and Miss Sophia, +and another lady, and Mr. Howard; sometimes alone, sometimes +three or four, or all together. + +At last came ten o'clock, and the young ones were sent off; +and from beginning to end that had been a Christmas day of +unbroken and unclouded pleasure. Ellen's last act was to take +another look at her Cologne bottle, gloves, pincushion, +grapes, and paper of sugar-plums, which were laid side by side +carefully in a drawer. + + +CHAPTER XXX. + +Sunday at Ventnor. + + +Mr. Humphreys was persuaded to stay over Sunday at Ventnor; +and it was also settled that his children should not leave it +till after New Year. This was less their own wish than his; he +said Alice wanted the change, and he wished she looked a +little fatter. Besides, the earnest pleadings of the whole +family were not to be denied. Ellen was very glad of this, +though there was one drawback to the pleasures of Ventnor +she could not feel quite at home with any of the young people, +but only Ellen Chauncey and her cousin George Walsh. This +seemed very strange to her; she almost thought Margaret +Dunscombe was at the bottom of it all, but she recollected she +had felt something of this before Margaret came. She tried to +think nothing about it; and in truth it was not able to +prevent her from being very happy. The breach, however, was +destined to grow wider. + +About four miles from Ventnor was a large town called +Randolph. Thither they drove to church Sunday morning, the +whole family; but the hour of dinner and the distance +prevented any one from going in the afternoon. The members of +the family were scattered in different parts of the house, +most in their own rooms. Ellen with some difficulty made her +escape from her young companions, whose manner of spending the +time did not satisfy her notions of what was right on that +day, and went to look in the library for her friends. They +were there, and alone; Alice half reclining on the sofa, half +in her brother's arms; he was reading or talking to her; there +was a book in his hand. + +"Is anything the matter?" said Ellen, as she drew near; +"aren't you well, dear Alice? Headache? oh, I am sorry. Oh! I +know" + +She darted away. In two minutes she was back again with a +pleased face, her bunch of grapes in one hand, her bottle of +Cologne water in the other. + +"Won't you open that, please, Mr. John," said she; "I can't +open it; I guess it will do her good, for Ellen says it's +delicious. Mamma used to have Cologne water for her headaches. +And here, dear Alice, won't you eat these? do! try one." + +"Hasn't that bottle been open yet?" said Alice, as she +smilingly took a grape. + +"Why, no, to be sure it hasn't. I wasn't going to open it till +I wanted it. Eat them all, dear Alice please do!" + +"But I don't think you have eaten one yourself, Ellen, by the +look of the bunch. And here are a great many too many for me." + +"Yes, I have, I've eaten two; I don't want 'em. I give them +all to you and Mr. John. I had a great deal rather!" + +Ellen took, however, as precious payment, Alice's look and +kiss; and then, with a delicate consciousness that perhaps the +brother and sister might like to be alone, she left the +library. She did not know where to go, for Miss Sophia was +stretched on the bed in her room, and she did not want any +company. At last, with her little Bible, she placed herself on +the old sofa in the hall above-stairs, which was perfectly +well warmed, and for some time she was left there in peace. It +was pleasant, after all the hubbub of the morning, to have a +little quiet time that seemed like Sunday; and the sweet Bible +words came, as they often now came to Ellen, with a healing +breath. But after half an hour or so, to her dismay she heard +a door open, and the whole gang of children come trooping into +the hall below, where they soon made such a noise that reading +or thinking was out of the question. + +"What a bother it is that one can't play games on a Sunday!" +said Marianne Gillespie. + +"One _can_ play games on a Sunday," answered her brother. +"Where's the odds? It's all Sunday's good for, _I_ think." + +"William! William!" sounded the shocked voice of little +Ellen Chauncey "you are a real wicked boy!" + +"Well, now!" said William, "how am I wicked? Now say I +should like to know. How is it any more wicked for us to play +games than it is for Aunt Sophia to lie a-bed and sleep, or +for Uncle Howard to read novels, or for Grandpa to talk +politics, or for mother to talk about the fashions? there +were she and Miss What's-her-name for ever so long this +morning doing everything but _make_ a dress. Now which is the +worst?" + +"Oh, William! William! for shame! for shame!" said little +Ellen again. + +"Do hush, Ellen Chauncey, will you?" said Marianne, sharply; +"and you had better hush too, William, if you know what is +good for yourself. I don't care whether it's right or wrong, I +do get dolefully tired with doing nothing." + +"Oh, so do I!" said Margaret, yawning. "I wish one could sleep +all Sunday." + +"I'll tell you what," said George "I know a game we can +play, and no harm either, for it's all out of the Bible." + +"Oh, do you? let's hear it, George," cried the girls. + +"I don't believe it is good for anything if it is out of the +Bible," said Margaret. "Now stare, Ellen Chauncey, do!" + +"I _ain't_ staring," said Ellen, indignantly; "but I don't +believe it is right to play it, if it _is_ out of the Bible." + +"Well, it is, though," said George. "Now listen; I'll think +of somebody in the Bible some man or woman, you know; and +you all may ask me twenty questions about him, to see if you +can find out who it is." + +"What kind of questions?" + +"Any kind of questions whatever you like." + +"That will improve your knowledge of scripture history," said +Gilbert. + +"To be sure; and exercise our memory," said Isabel Hawthorn. + +"Yes, and then we are thinking of good people and what they +did all the time," said little Ellen. + +"Or bad people and what they did," said William. + +"But I don't know enough about people and things in the +Bible," said Margaret; "I couldn't guess." + +"Oh, never mind it will be all the more fun," said George. +"Come! let's begin. Who'll take somebody?" + +"Oh, I think this will be fine!" said little Ellen Chauncey; +"but, Ellen where's Ellen? we want her." + +"No we don't want her! we've enough without her she won't +play!" shouted William, as the little girl ran upstairs. She +persevered, however. Ellen had left her sofa before this, and +was found seated on the foot of her bed. As far and as long as +she could, she withstood her little friend's entreaties, and +very unwillingly at last yielded and went with her downstairs. + +"Now we are ready," said little Ellen Chauncey; "I have told +Ellen what the game is; who's going to begin?" + +"We have begun," said William. "Gilbert has thought of +somebody. Man or woman?" + +"Man." + +"Young or old?" + +"Why, he was young first, and old afterwards." + +"Pshaw, William! what a ridiculous question," said his sister. +"Besides, you mustn't ask more than one at a time. Rich or +poor, Gilbert?" + +"Humph! why, I suppose he was moderately well off. I dare +say I should think myself a lucky fellow if I had as much." + +"Are you answering truly, Gilbert?" + +"Upon my honour!" + +"Was he in a high or low station of life?" asked Miss +Hawthorn. + +"Neither at the top nor the bottom of the ladder a very +respectable person indeed." + +"But we are not getting on," said Margaret. "According to you, +he wasn't anything in particular; what kind of a person was +he, Gilbert?" + +"A very good man." + +"Handsome or ugly?" + +"History don't say." + +"Well, what _does_ it say?" said George "what did he do?" + +"He took a journey once upon a time." + +"What for?" + +"Do you mean _why_ he went, or what was the _object_ of his +going?" + +"Why, the one's the same as the other, ain't it?" + +"I beg your pardon." + +"Well, what was the object of his going?" + +"He went after a wife." + +"Samson! Samson!" shouted William and Isabel and Ellen +Chauncey. + +"No it wasn't Samson either." + +"I can't think of anybody else that went after a wife," said +George. "That king what's his name? that married Esther?" + +The children screamed. "_He_ didn't go after a wife, George +his wives were brought to him. Was it Jacob?" + +"No, he didn't go after a wife, either," said Gilbert; "he +married two of them, but he didn't go to his uncle's to find +them. You had better go on with your questions. You have had +eight already. If you don't look out, you won't catch me. +Come!" + +"Did he get the wife that he went after?" asked Ellen +Chauncey. + +"He was never married that I know of," said Gilbert. + +"What was the reason he failed?" said Isabel. + +"He did not fail." + +"Did he bring home his wife then? You said he wasn't married." + +"He never was, that I know of; but he brought home a wife +notwithstanding." + +"But how funny you are, Gilbert!" said little Ellen. "He had a +wife and he hadn't a wife: what became of her?" + +"She lived and flourished. Twelve questions: take care." + +"Nobody asked what country he was of," said Margaret, "what +was he, Gilbert?" + +"He was a Damascene." + +"A _what?_" + +"Of Damascus of Damascus. You know where Damascus is, don't +you?" + +"Fiddle!" said Marianne "I thought he was a Jew. Did he live +before or after the Flood?" + +"After. I should think you might have known that." + +"Well, I can't make out anything about him," said Marianne. +"We shall have to give it up." + +"No, no not yet," said William. "Where did he go after his +wife?" + +"Too close a question." + +"Then that don't count. Had he ever seen her before?" + +"Never." + +"Was she willing to go with him?" + +"Very willing. Ladies always are, when they go to be married." + +"And what became of her?" + +"She was married and lived happily, as I told you." + +"But you said _he_ wasn't married?" + +"Well, what then? I didn't say she married _him_." + +"Whom did she marry?" + +"Ah, that is asking the whole; I can't tell you." + +"Had they far to go?" asked Isabel. + +"Several days' journey I don't know how far." + +"How did they travel?" + +"On camels." + +"Was it the Queen of Sheba?" said little Ellen. + +There was a roar of laughter at this happy thought, and poor +little Ellen declared she forgot all but about the journey; +she remembered the Queen of Sheba had taken a journey, and the +camels in the picture of the Queen of Sheba, and that made her +think of her. + +The children gave up. Questioning seemed hopeless; and Gilbert +at last told them his thought. It was Eliezer, Abraham's +steward, whom he sent to fetch a wife for his son Isaac. + +"Why haven't _you_ guessed, little mumchance?" said Gilbert to +Ellen Montgomery. + +"I have guessed," said Ellen; "I knew who it was, some time +ago." + +"Then why didn't you say so? and you haven't asked a single +question," said George. + +"No, you haven't asked a single question," said Ellen +Chauncey. + +"She is a great deal too good for that," said William; "she +thinks it is wicked, and that we are not at all nice, proper- +behaved boys and girls to be playing on Sunday; she is very +sorry she could not help being amused." + +"_Do_ you think it is wicked, Ellen?" asked her little friend. + +"Do you think it isn't right?" said George Walsh. + +Ellen hesitated; she saw they were all waiting to hear what +she would say. She coloured, and looked down at her little +Bible, which was still in her hand. It encouraged her. + +"I don't want to say anything rude," she began; "I don't think +it is quite right to play such plays, or any plays." + +She was attacked with impatient cries of "Why not?" "Why not?" + +"Because," said Ellen, trembling with the effort she made, "I +think Sunday was meant to be spent in growing better and +learning good things; and I don't think such plays would help +one at all to do that; and I have a kind of feeling that I +ought not to do it." + +"Well, I hope you'll act according to your _feeling_, then," +said William; "I am sure nobody has any objection. You had +better go somewhere else, though, for we are going on; we have +been learning to be good long enough for one day. Come! I have +thought of somebody." + +Ellen could not help feeling hurt and sorry at the half-sneer +she saw in the look and manner of the others, as well as in +William's words. She wished for no better than to go away; but +as she did so, her bosom swelled, and the tears started, and +her breath came quicker. She found Alice lying down and +asleep, Miss Sophia beside her; so she stole out again, and +went down to the library. Finding nobody, she took possession +of the sofa, and tried to read again; reading somehow did not +go well, and she fell to musing on what had just passed. She +thought of the unkindness of the children; how sure she was it +was wrong to spend any part of Sunday in such games; what +Alice would think of it, and John, and her mother; and how the +Sundays long ago used to be spent, when that dear mother was +with her; and then she wondered how _she_ was passing this very +one while Ellen was sitting here in the library alone, what +_she_ was doing in that far-away land; and she thought if there +only _were_ such things as oracles that could tell truly, how +much she should like to ask about her. + +"Ellen!" said the voice of John from the window. + +She started up; she had thought she was alone; but there he +was lying in the window-seat. + +"What are you doing?" + +"Nothing," said Ellen. + +"Come here. What are you thinking about? I didn't know you +were there till I heard two or three very long sighs. What is +the matter with my little sister?" + +He took her hand and drew her fondly up to him. "What were you +thinking about?" + +"I was thinking about different things nothing is the +matter," said Ellen. + +"Then what are those tears in your eyes for?" + +"I don't know," said she, laughing "there weren't any till I +came here. I was thinking just now about Mamma." + +He said no more still, however, keeping her beside him. + +"I should think," said Ellen presently, after a few minutes' +musing look out of the window, "it would be very pleasant if +there were such things as oracles don't you, Mr. John?" + +"No." + +"But wouldn't you like to know something about what's going to +happen?" + +"I do know a great deal about it." + +"About what is going to happen!" + +He smiled. + +"Yes a great deal, Ellen enough to give me work for all +the rest of my life." + +"Oh, you mean from the Bible I was thinking of other +things." + +"It is best not to know the other things, Ellie I am very +glad to know those the Bible teaches us." + +"But is doesn't tell us much, does it? What does it tell us?" + +"Go to the window, and tell me what you see." + +"I don't see anything in particular," said Ellen, after taking +a grave look out. + +"Well, what in general?" + +"Why, there is the lawn covered with snow, and the trees and +bushes; and the sun is shining on everything, just as it did +the day we came; and there's the long shadow of that hemlock +across the snow, and the blue sky." + +"Now look out again, Ellie, and listen. I know that a day is +to come, when those heavens shall be wrapped together as a +scroll they shall vanish away like smoke, and the earth +shall wax old like a garment and it, and all the works that +are therein, shall be burned up." + +As he spoke, Ellen's fancy tried to follow to picture the +ruin and desolation of all that stood so fair, and seemed to +stand so firm before her; but the sun shone on, the branches +waved gently in the wind, the shadows lay still on the snow, +and the blue heaven was fair and cloudless. Fancy was baffled. +She turned from the window. + +"Do you believe it?" said John. + +"Yes," said Ellen "I know it; but I think it is very +disagreeable to think about it." + +"It would be, Ellie," said he, bringing her again to his side + "very disagreeable very miserable indeed, if we knew no +more than that. But we know more read here." + +Ellen took his little Bible and read at the open place. + +" 'Behold, I create new heavens and a new earth, and the +former shall not be remembered, neither come into mind.' " + +"Why won't they be remembered?" said Ellen "shall we forget +all about them?" + +"No, I do not think that is meant. The new heavens and the new +earth will be so much more lovely and pleasant that we shall +not want to think of these." + +Ellen's eyes sought the window again. + +"You are thinking that it is hardly possible?" said John with +a smile. + +"I suppose it is _possible_," said Ellen "but" + +"But lovely as this world is, Ellie, man has filled it with +sin, and sin has everywhere brought its punishment, and under +the weight of both the earth groans. There will be no sin +_there;_ sorrow and sighing shall flee away; love to each other +and love to their blessed King will fill all hearts, and his +presence will be with them. Don't you see that, even if that +world shall be in itself no better than this, it will yet be +far, far more lovely than this can ever be, with the shadow of +sin upon it?" + +"Oh, yes!" said Ellen. "I know, whenever I feel wrong in any +way, nothing seems pretty or pleasant to me, or not half so +much." + +"Very well," said John "I see you understand me. I like to +think of that land, Ellen very much." + +"Mr. John," said Ellen "don't you think people will know +each other again?" + +"Those that love each other here! I have no doubt of it." + +Before either John or Ellen had broken the long musing fit +that followed these words, they were joined by Alice. Her head +was better; and taking her place in the window-seat, the talk +began again, between the brother and sister now; Ellen too +happy to sit with them and listen. They talked of that land +again, of the happy company preparing for it; of their dead +mother, but not much of her; of the glory of their King, and +the joy of his service even here till thoughts grew too +strong for words, and silence again stole upon the group. The +short winter-day came to an end; the sunlight faded away into +moonlight. No shadows lay now on the lawn; and from where she +sat Ellen could see the great hemlock all silvered with the +moonlight, which began to steal in at the window. It was very, +very beautiful yet she could think now without sorrow that +all this should come to an end; because of that new heaven and +new earth wherein righteousness should dwell. + +"We have eaten up all your grapes, Ellie," said Alice "or +rather _I_ have, for John didn't help me much. I think I never +ate so sweet grapes in my life; John said the reason was +because every one tasted of you." + +"I am very glad," said Ellen, laughing. + +"There is no evil without some good," Alice went on. "Except +for my headache, John would not have held my head by the hour +as he did; and you couldn't have given me the pleasure you +did, Ellie. Oh, Jack! there has been many a day lately when +I would gladly have had a headache for the power of laying my +head on your shoulder!" + +"And if Mamma had not gone away, I should never have known +you," said Ellen. "I wish she never _had_ gone, but I am very, +very glad for this!" + +She had kneeled upon the window-seat and clasped Alice round +the neck, just as they were called to tea. The conversation +had banished every disagreeable feeling from Ellen's mind. She +met her companions in the drawing-room, almost forgetting that +she had any cause of complaint against them. And this appeared +when in the course of the evening it came in her way to +perform some little office of politeness for Marianne. It was +done with the gracefulness that could only come from a spirit +entirely free from ungrateful feelings. The children felt it, +and for the time were shamed into better behaviour. The +evening passed pleasantly, and Ellen went to bed very happy. + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + +Flowers and Thorns. + + +The next day it happened that the young people were amusing +themselves with talking in a room where John Humphreys, +walking up and down, was amusing _himself_ with thinking. In the +course of his walk, he began to find their amusement rather +disturbing to his. The children were all grouped closely +around Margaret Dunscombe, who was entertaining them with a +long and very detailed account of a wedding and great party at +Randolph, which she had had the happiness of attending. +Eagerly fighting her battles over again, and pleased with the +rapt attention of her hearers, the speaker forgot herself, and +raised her voice much more than she meant to do. As every turn +of his walk brought John near, there came to his ears +sufficient bits and scraps of Margaret's story to give him a +very fair sample of the whole; and he was sorry to see Ellen +among the rest, and as the rest, hanging upon her lips and +drinking in what seemed to him to be very poor nonsense. "Her +gown was all blue satin, trimmed here and so you know, +with the most exquisite lace, as deep as that and on the +shoulders and here, you know, it was looped up with the most +lovely bunches of" here John lost the sense. When he came +near again, she had got upon a different topic " 'Miss +Simmons,' says I, 'what did you do that for?' 'Why,' says she, +'how could I help it? I saw Mr. Payne coming, and I thought +I'd get behind you, and so' " . The next time the speaker was +saying with great animation, "And lo and behold, when I was in +the midst of all my pleasure, up comes a little gentleman of +about his dimensions ." He had not taken many turns, when he +saw that Margaret's nonsense was branching out right and left +into worse than nonsense. + +"Ellen!" said he, suddenly "I want you in the library." + +"My conscience!" said Margaret, as he left the room "King +John the second, and no less." + +"Don't go on till I come back," said Ellen; "I won't be three +minutes; just wait for me." + +She found John seated at one of the tables in the library, +sharpening a pencil. + +"Ellen," said he, in his usual manner "I want you to do +something for me." + +She waited eagerly to hear what; but, instead of telling her, +he took a piece of drawing-paper, and began to sketch +something. Ellen stood by, wondering and impatient to the last +degree; not caring, however, to show her impatience, though +her very feet were twitching to run back to her companions. + +"Ellen," said John, as he finished the old stump of a tree, +with one branch left on it, and a little bit of ground at the +bottom, "did you ever try your hand at drawing?" + +"No," said Ellen. + +"Then sit down here," said he, rising from his chair, "and let +me see what you can make of that." + +"But I don't know how," said Ellen. + +"I will teach you. There is a piece of paper, and this pencil +is sharp enough. Is that chair too low for you?" + +He placed another, and with extreme unwillingness and some +displeasure, Ellen sat down. It was on her tongue to ask if +another time would not do, but somehow she could not get the +words out. John showed her how to hold her pencil, how to +place her paper, where to begin, and how to go on; and then +went to the other end of the room, and took up his walk again. +Ellen at first felt more inclined to drive her pencil _through_ +the paper than to make quiet marks upon it. However, necessity +was upon her. She began her work; and once fairly begun, it +grew delightfully interesting. Her vexation went off entirely; +she forgot Margaret and her story; the wrinkles on the old +trunk smoothed those on her brow; and those troublesome leaves +at the branch end brushed away all thoughts of everything +else. Her cheeks were burning with intense interest, when the +library door burst open, and the whole troop of children +rushed in; they wanted Ellen for a round game in which all +their number were needed; she must come directly. + +"I can't come just yet," said she; "I must finish this first." + +"Afterwards will do just as well," said George; "come, +Ellen, do! you can finish it afterwards." + +"No, I can't," said Ellen, "I can't leave it till it's done. +Why, I thought Mr. John was here! I didn't see him go out. +I'll come in a little while." + +"Did _he_ set you about that precious piece of business?" said +William. + +"Yes." + +"I declare," said Margaret, "he's fitter to be the Grand Turk +than any one else I know of." + +"I don't know who the Grand Turk is," said Ellen. + +"I'll tell you," said William, putting his mouth close to her +ear, and speaking in a disagreeable loud whisper, "it's the +biggest gobbler in the yard." + +"Ain't you ashamed, William!" cried little Ellen Chauncey. + +"That's it exactly," said Margaret "always strutting about." + +"He isn't a bit," said Ellen, very angry; "I've seen people a +great deal more like gobblers than he is." + +"Well," said William, reddening in his turn, "I had rather, at +any rate, be a good turkey gobbler, than one of those +outlandish birds that have an appetite for stones, and glass, +and bits of morocco, and such things. Come, let us leave her +to do the Grand Turk's bidding. Come, Ellen Chauncey, you +mustn't stay to interrupt her we want you!" + +They left her alone. Ellen had coloured, but William's words +did not hit very sore; since John's talk with her about the +matter referred to, she had thought of it humbly and wisely; +it is only pride that makes such fault-finding very hard to +bear. She was very sorry, however, that they had fallen out +again, and that her own passion, as she feared, had been the +cause. A few tears had to be wiped away before she could see +exactly how the old tree stood, then, taking up her pencil, +she soon forgot everything in her work. It was finished, and +with head now on one side, now on the other, she was looking +at her picture with very great satisfaction, when her eye +caught the figure of John standing before her. + +"Is it done?" said he. + +"It is done," said Ellen, smiling, as she rose up to let him +come. He sat down to look at it. + +"It is very well, he said "better than I expected it is +very well indeed. Is this your _first_ trial, Ellen?" + +"Yes the first." + +"You found it pleasant work?" + +"Oh, very, very pleasant. I like it dearly." + +"Then I will teach you. This shows you have a taste for it, +and that is precisely what I wanted to find out. I will give +you an easier copy next time. I rather expected, when you sat +down," said he, smiling a little, "that the old tree would +grow a good deal more crooked under your hands than I meant it +to be." + +Ellen blushed exceedingly. "I do believe, Mr. John," she said, +stammering, "that you know everything I am thinking about." + +"I might do that, Ellen, without being as wise as an oracle. +But I do not expect to make any very painful discoveries in +that line." + +Ellen thought, if he did not, it would not be her fault. She +truly repented her momentary anger and hasty speech to +William. Not that he did not deserve it, or that it was not +true; but it was unwise, and had done mischief; and "it was +not a bit like peace-making, nor meek at all," Ellen said to +herself. She had been reading that morning the fifth chapter +of Matthew, and it ran in her head, "Blessed are the meek" +"Blessed are the peace-makers; for they shall be called the +children of God." She strove to get back a pleasant feeling +towards her young companions, and prayed that she might not be +angry at anything they should say. She was tried again at tea- +time. + +Miss Sophia had quitted the table, bidding William hand the +dough-nuts to those who could not reach them. Marianne took a +great while to make her choice. Her brother grew impatient. + +"Well, I hope you have suited yourself?" said he. "Come, Miss +Montgomery, don't you be as long; my arm is tired. Shut your +eyes, and then you'll be sure to get the biggest one in the +basket." + +"No, Ellen," said John, who none of the children thought was +near "it would be ungenerous I wouldn't deprive Master +William of his best arguments." + +"What do you mean by my arguments?" said William, sharply. + +"Generally, those which are the most difficult to take in," +answered his tormentor with perfect gravity. + +Ellen tried to keep from smiling, but could not; and others of +the party did not try. William and his sister were enraged, +the more because John had said nothing they could take hold +of, or even repeat. Gilbert made common cause with them. + +"I wish I was grown up for once," said William. + +"Will you fight _me_, Sir?" asked Gilbert, who was a matter of +three years older, and well-grown enough. + +His question received no answer, and was repeated. + +"No, Sir." + +"Why not, Sir?" + +"I am afraid you'd lay me up with a sprained ankle," said +John, "and I should not get back to Doncaster as quickly as I +must." + +"It is very mean of him," said Gilbert, as John walked away +"I could whip him, I know." + +"Who's that?" said Mr. Howard Marshman. + +"John Humphreys." + +"John Humphreys! You had better not meddle with him, my dear +fellow. It would be no particular proof of wisdom." + +"Why, he is no such great affair," said Gilbert, "he's tall +enough, to be sure, but I don't believe he is heavier than I +am." + +"You don't know, in the first place, how to judge of the size +of a perfectly well-made man; and, in the second place, _I_ was +not a match for him a year ago; so you may judge I do not +know precisely," he went on to the lady he was walking with, +"what it takes to rouse John Humphreys; but when he is roused, +he seems to me to have strength enough for twice his bone and +muscle. I have seen him do curious things once or twice!" + +"That quiet Mr. Humphreys?" + +"Humph!" said Mr. Howard "gunpowder is pretty quiet stuff, +so long as it keeps cool." + +The next day another matter happened to disturb Ellen. +Margaret had received an elegant pair of ear-rings as a +Christmas present, and was showing them for the admiration of +her young friends. Ellen's did not satisfy her. + +"Ain't they splendid?" said she. "Tell the truth, now, Ellen +Montgomery, wouldn't you give a great deal if somebody would +send you such a pair?" + +"They are very pretty," said Ellen, "but I don't think I care +much for such things I would rather have the money." + +"Oh, you avaricious! Mr. Marshman!" cried Margaret, as the +old gentleman was just then passing through the room "here's +Ellen Montgomery says she'd rather have money than anything +else for her present." + +He did not seem to hear her, and went out without making any +reply. + +"Oh, Margaret!" said Ellen, shocked and distressed "how +could you! how could you! What will Mr. Marshman think?" + +Margaret answered she didn't care what he thought. Ellen could +only hope he had not heard. + +But a day or two after, when neither Ellen nor her friends +were present, Mr. Marshman asked who it was that had told him +Ellen Montgomery would like money better than anything else +for her New Year's present. + +"It was I, Sir," said Margaret. + +"It sounds very unlike her to say so," remarked Mrs. Chauncey. + +"Did she say so?" inquired Mr. Marshman. + +"I understood her so," said Margaret "I understood her to +say she wouldn't care for anything else." + +"I am disappointed in her," said the old gentleman; "I +wouldn't have believed it." + +"I do not believe it," said Mrs. Chauncey, quietly; "there has +been some mistake." + +It was hard for Ellen now to keep to what she thought right. +Disagreeable feelings would rise when she remembered the +impoliteness, the half-sneer, the whole taunt, and the real +unkindness of several of the young party. She found herself +ready to be irritated, inclined to dislike the sight of those, +even wishing to visit some sort of punishment upon them. But +Christian principle had taken strong hold in little Ellen's +heart; she fought her evil tempers manfully. It was not an +easy battle to gain. Ellen found that resentment and pride had +roots deep enough to keep her pulling up the shoots for a good +while. She used to get alone when she could, to read a verse, +if no more, of her Bible, and pray; she could forgive William +and Margaret more easily then. Solitude and darkness saw many +a prayer and tear of hers that week. As she struggled thus to +get rid of sin, and to be more like what would please God, she +grew humble and happy. Never was such a struggle carried on by +faith in Him, without success. And after a time, though a +twinge of the old feeling might come, it was very slight; she +would bid William and Margaret good morning, and join them in +any enterprise of pleasure or business, with a brow as +unclouded as the sun. They, however, were too conscious of +having behaved unbecomingly towards their little stranger +guest to be over fond of her company. For the most part, she +and Ellen Chauncey were left to each other. + +Meanwhile the famous needlebook was in a fair way to be +finished. Great dismay had at first been excited in the breast +of the intended giver, by the discovery that Gilbert had +consulted what seemed to be a very extraordinary fancy, in +making the rose a yellow one. Ellen did her best to comfort +her. She asked Alice, and found there were such things as +yellow roses, and they were very beautiful, too; and, besides, +it would match so nicely the yellow butterfly on the other +leaf. + +"I had rather it wouldn't match!" said Ellen Chauncey; "and +it don't match the rose-coloured silk, besides. Are the yellow +roses sweet?" + +"No," said Ellen; "but _this_ couldn't have been a sweet rose at +any rate, you know." + +"Oh, but," said the other, bursting out into a fresh passion +of inconsolable tears; "I wanted it should be the _picture_ of a +sweet rose! And I think he might have put a purple butterfly +yellow butterflies are so common! I had a great deal rather +have had a purple butterfly and a red rose!" + +What cannot be cured, however, must be endured. The tears were +dried, in course of time, and the needlebook, with its yellow +pictures and pink edges, was very neatly finished. Ellen had +been busy, too, on her own account. Alice had got a piece of +fine linen for her from Miss Sophia; the collar for Mr. Van +Brunt had been cut out, and Ellen with great pleasure had made +it. The stitching, the strings, and the very buttonhole, after +infinite pains, were all finished by Thursday night. She had +also made a needlecase for Alice, not of so much pretension as +the other one; this was green morocco, lined with crimson +satin; no leaves, but ribbon stitched in to hold papers of +needles, and a place for a bodkin. Ellen worked very hard at +this; it was made with the extremest care, and made +beautifully. Ellen Chauncey admired it very much, and anew +lamented the uncouth variety of colours in her own. It was a +grave question whether pink or yellow ribbon should be used +for the latter; Ellen Montgomery recommended pink, she herself +inclined to yellow, and, tired of doubting, at last resolved +to split the difference, and put one string of each colour. +Ellen thought that did not mend matters, but wisely kept her +thoughts to herself. Besides the needlecase for Alice, she had +snatched the time, whenever she could get away from Ellen +Chauncey, to work at something for her. She had begged Alice's +advice and help; and between them, out of Ellen's scraps of +morocco and silk, they had manufactured a little bag of all +the colours of the rainbow, and very pretty and tasteful +withal. Ellen thought it a _chef-d'oeuvre_, and was unbounded in +her admiration. It lay folded up in white paper in a locked +drawer, ready for New Year's day. In addition to all these +pieces of business, John had begun to give her drawing +lessons, according to his promise. These became Ellen's +delight. She would willingly have spent much more time upon +them than he would allow her. It was the most loved employment +of the day. Her teacher's skill was not greater than the +perfect gentleness and kindness with which he taught. Ellen +thought of Mr. Howard's speech about gunpowder she could not +understand it. + +"What is your conclusion on the whole?" asked John, one day, +as he stood beside her mending a pencil. + +"Why," said Ellen, laughing and blushing, "how _could_ you guess +what I was thinking about, Mr. John?" + +"Not very difficult, when you are eyeing me so hard." + +"I was thinking," said Ellen, "I don't know whether it is +right in me to tell it because somebody said you " + +"Well?" + +"Were like gunpowder." + +"Very kind of somebody! And so you have been in doubt of an +explosion?" + +"No I don't know I wondered what he meant." + +"Never believe what you hear said of people, Ellen; judge for +yourself. Look here that house has suffered from a severe +gale of wind, I should think all the uprights are slanting +off to the right can't you set it up straight?" + +Ellen laughed at the tumble-down condition of the house, as +thus pointed out to her, and set about reforming it. + +It was Thursday afternoon that Alice and Ellen were left alone +in the library, several of the family having been called out +to receive some visitors; Alice had excused herself, and +Ellen, as soon as they were gone, nestled up to her side. + +"How pleasant it is to be alone together, dear Alice! I +don't have you even at night now." + +"It is very pleasant, dear Ellie! Home will not look +disagreeable again, will it, even after all our gaiety here?" + +"No indeed! at least, _your_ home won't I don't know what +mine will. O me! I had almost forgotten Aunt Fortune!" + +"Never mind, dear Ellie! You and I have each something to bear + we must be brave, and bear it manfully. There is a Friend +that sticketh closer than a brother, you know. We shan't be +unhappy if we do our duty and love Him." + +"How soon is Mr. John going away?" + +"Not for all next week. And so long as he stays, I do not mean +that you shall leave me." + +Ellen cried for joy. + +"I can manage it with Miss Fortune, I know," said Alice. +"These fine drawing lessons must not be interrupted. John is +very much pleased with your performances." + +"Is he?" said Ellen delighted. "I have taken all the pains I +could." + +"That is the sure way to success, Ellie. But, Ellie, I want to +ask you something. What was that you said to Margaret +Dunscombe about wanting money for a New Year's present?" + +"You know it, then!" cried Ellen, starting up. "Oh, I'm so +glad! I wanted to speak to you about it, so I didn't know what +to do, and I thought I oughtn't to. What shall I do about it, +dear Alice? How did you know? George said you were not there." + +"Mrs. Chauncey told me; she thought there had been some +mistake, or something wrong; how was it, Ellen?" + +"Why," said Ellen, "she was showing us her ear-rings, and +asking us what we thought of them, and she asked me if I +wouldn't like to have such a pair; and I thought I would a +great deal rather have the money they cost, to buy other +things with, you know, that I would like better; and I said +so; and just then Mr. Marshman came in, and she called out to +him, loud, that I wanted money for a present, or would like it +better than anything else, or something like that. Oh, Alice, +how I felt! I was frightened; but then I hoped Mr. Marshman +did not hear her, for he did not say anything; but the next +day George told me all about what she had been saying in +there, and oh! it made me so unhappy!" said poor Ellen, +looking very dismal. "What _will_ Mr. Marshman think of me? He +will think I expected a present, and I never _dreamed_ of such a +thing! It makes me ashamed to speak of it, even; and I _can't +bear_ he should think so I can't bear it! What shall I do, +dear Alice?" + +"I don't know what you can do, dear Ellie; but be patient +Mr. Marshman will not think anything very hard of you, I dare +say." + +"But I think he does already; he hasn't kissed me since that +as he did before; I know he does, and I don't know what to do. +How could Margaret say that! oh, how could she! it was +very unkind. What can I do?" said Ellen, again, after a pause, +and wiping away a few tears. "Couldn't Mrs. Chauncey tell Mr. +Marshman not to give me anything for that I never expected it, +and would a great deal rather not?" + +"Why, no, Ellie, I do not think that would be exactly the best +or most dignified way." + +"What then; dear Alice? I'll do just as you say." + +"I would just remain quiet." + +"But Ellen says the things are all put on the plates in the +morning; and if there should be money on mine I don't know +what I should do, I should feel so badly. I couldn't keep it, +Alice! I couldn't!" + +"Very well, you need not; but remain quiet in the mean while; +and if it should be so, then say what you please, only take +care that you say it in the right spirit and in a right +manner. Nobody can hurt you much, my child, while you keep the +even path of duty; poor Margaret is her own worst enemy." + +"Then, if there should be money in the morning, I may tell Mr. +Marshman the truth about it?" + +"Certainly only do not be in haste; speak gently." + +"Oh, I wish everybody would be kind and pleasant always!" said +poor Ellen, but half comforted. + +"What a sigh was there!" said John, coming in. "What is the +matter with my little sister?" + +"Some of the minor trials of life, John," said Alice, with a +smile. + +"What is the matter, Ellie?" + +"Oh, something you can't help," said Ellen. + +"And something I mustn't know. Well, to change the scene +suppose you go with me to visit the greenhouse and hothouses. +Have you seen them yet?" + +"No," said Ellen, as she eagerly sprang forward to take his +hand; "Ellen promised to go with me, but we have been so +busy." + +"Will you come, Alice?" + +"Not I," said Alice, "I wish I could, but I shall be wanted +elsewhere." + +"By whom, I wonder, so much as by me?" said her brother. +"However, after to-morrow I will have you all to myself." + +As he and Ellen were crossing the hall, they met Mrs. +Marshman. + +"Where are you going, John?" said she. + +"Where I ought to have been before, Ma'am to pay my respects +to Mr. Hutchinson." + +"You've not seen him yet! that is very ungrateful of you. +Hutchinson is one of your warmest friends and admirers. There +are few people he mentions with so much respect, or that he is +so glad to see, as Mr. John Humphreys." + +"A distinction I owe, I fear, principally to my English +blood," said John, shaking his head. + +"It is not altogether that," said Mrs. Marshman, laughing; +"though I do believe; I am the only Yankee good Hutchinson has +ever made up his mind entirely to like. But go and see him +do, he will be very much pleased." + +"Who is Mr. Hutchinson?" said Ellen, as they went on. + +"He is the gardener, or rather the head gardener. He came out +with his master some thirty or forty years ago, but his old +English prejudice will go to the grave with him, I believe." + +"But why don't he like the Americans?" + +John laughed. "It would never do for me to attempt to answer +that question, Ellie; fond of going to the bottom of things as +you are. We should just get to hard fighting about tea-time, +and should barely make peace by mid-day to-morrow, at the most +moderate calculation. You shall have an answer to your +question, however." + +Ellen could not conceive what he meant, but resolved to wait +for his promised answer. + +As they entered the large and beautifully-kept greenhouse, +Hutchinson came from the further end of it to meet them an +old man, of most respectable appearance. He bowed very +civilly, and then slipped his pruning-knife into his left +hand, to leave the right at liberty for John, who shook it +cordially. + +"And why 'aven't you been to see me before, Mr. John? I've +thought it rather 'ard of you: Miss h'Alice has come several +times." + +"The ladies have more leisure, Mr. Hutchinson. You look +flourishing here." + +"Why, yes, Sir pretty middling, within doors; but I don't +like the climate, Mr. John I don't the climate, Sir. There's +no country like h'England, I believe, for my business. 'Ere's +a fine rose, Sir if you'll step a bit this way quite a new +kind I got it over last h'autumn the Palmerston it is. +Those are fine buds, Sir." + +The old man was evidently much pleased to see his visitor, and +presently plunged him deep into English politics, for which he +seemed to have lost no interest by forty years' life in +America. As Ellen could not understand what they were talking +about, she quitted John's side, and went wandering about by +herself. From the moment the sweet aromatic smell of the +plants had greeted her, she had been in a high state of +delight; and now, lost to all the world beside, from the +mystery of one beautiful and strange green thing to another +she went wondering and admiring, and now and then timidly +advancing her nose to see if something glorious was something +sweet too. She could hardly leave a superb cactus, in the +petals of which there was such a singular blending of scarlet +and crimson as almost to dazzle her sight; and if the pleasure +of smell could intoxicate, she would have _reeled_ away from a +luxuriant daphne odorata in full flower, over which she +feasted for a long time. The variety of green leaves alone was +a marvel to her; some rough and brown-streaked, some shining +as if they were varnished, others of hair-like delicacy of +structure all lovely. At last she stood still with +admiration, and almost held her breath before a white +camellia. + +"What does that flower make you think of, Ellen?" said John, +coming up. His friend the gardener had left him to seek a +newspaper in which he wished to show him a paragraph. + +"I don't know," said Ellen "I couldn't think of anything but +itself." + +"It reminds me of what I ought to be and of what I shall be +if I ever see heaven it seems to me the emblem of a sinless, +pure spirit looking up in fearless spotlessness. Do you +remember what was said to the old Church of Sardis? 'Thou +hast a few names that have not defiled their garments; and +they shall walk with me in white, for they are worthy.' " + +The tears rushed to Ellen's eyes, she felt she was so very +unlike this; but Mr. Hutchinson coming back prevented anything +more from being said. She looked at the white camellia; it +seemed to speak to her. + +"That's the paragraph, Sir," said the old gardener, giving the +paper to John. " 'Ere's a little lady that is fond of flowers, +if I don't make a mistake; this is somebody I've not seen +before? Is this the little lady Miss h'Ellen was telling me +about." + +"I presume so," said John. "She is Miss Ellen Montgomery a +sister of mine, Mr. Hutchinson, and Mr. Marshman's guest." + +"By both names h'entitled to my greatest respect," said the +old man, stepping back, and making a very low bow to Ellen, +with his hand upon his heart, at which she could not help +laughing. "I am very glad to see Miss h'Ellen; what can I do +to make her remember old 'Utchinson? Would Miss h'Ellen like a +bouquet?" + +Ellen did not venture to say yes, but her blush and sparkling +eyes answered him. The old gardener understood her, and was as +good as his word. He began with cutting a beautiful sprig of a +large purple geranium, then a slip of lemon myrtle. Ellen +watched him as the bunch grew in his hand, and could hardly +believe her eyes as one beauty after another was added to what +became a most elegant bouquet. And most sweet, too; to her +joy, the delicious daphne and fragrant lemon blossom went to +make part of it. Her thanks, when it was given her, were made +with few words, but with all her face; the old gardener +smiled, and was quite satisfied that his gift was not thrown +away. He afterwards showed them his hothouses, where Ellen was +astonished and very much interested to see ripe oranges and +lemons in abundance, and pines, too, such as she had been +eating since she came to Ventnor, thinking nothing less than +that they grew so near home. The grapes had all been cut. + +There was to be quite a party at Ventnor in the evening of New +Year's day. Ellen knew this, and destined her precious flowers +for Alice's adornment. How to keep them, in the meanwhile? She +consulted Mr. John, and according to his advice, took them to +Mrs. Bland, the housekeeper, to be put in water, and kept in a +safe place for her till the time. She knew Mrs. Bland, for +Ellen Chauncey and she had often gone to her room to work, +where none of the children would find and trouble them. Mrs. +Bland promised to take famous care of the flowers, and said +she would do it with the greatest pleasure. "Mr. Marshman's +guests," she added, smiling, "must have everything they +wanted." + +"What does that mean, Mrs. Bland?" said Ellen. + +"Why, you see, Miss Ellen, there's a deal of company always +coming, and some is Mrs. Gillespie's friends, and some Mr. +Howard's, and some to see Miss Sophia more particularly, and +some belong to Mrs. Marshman, or the whole family, maybe; but +now and then _Mr._ Marshman, has an old English friend or so, +that he sets the greatest store by; and then he calls _his_ +guests; and the best in the house is hardly good enough for +them, or the country either." + +"And so I am one of Mr. Marshman's guests?" said Ellen, "I +didn't know what it meant." + +She saved out one little piece of rose-geranium from her +flowers for the gratification of her own nose; and skipped +away through the hall to rejoin her companions, very light- +hearted indeed. + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +The Bank-Note and George Washington. + + +New Year's morning dawned. + +"How I wish breakfast was over!" thought Ellen as she was +dressing. However, there is no way of getting _over_ this life +but by going through it; so when the bell rang she went down +as usual. Mr. Marshman had decreed that he would not have a +confusion of gifts at the breakfast table; other people might +make presents in their own way; they must not interfere with +his. Needlecases, bags, and so forth, must therefore wait +another opportunity; and Ellen Chauncey decided it would just +make the pleasure so much longer, and was a great improvement +on the old plan. "Happy New Years" and pleasant greetings were +exchanged, as the party gathered in the breakfast-room; +pleasure sat on all faces, except Ellen's, and many a one wore +a broad smile as they sat down to table. For the napkins were +in singular disarrangement this morning; instead of being +neatly folded up on the plates, in their usual fashion, they +were in all sorts of disorder sticking up in curious angles, +some high, some low, some half-folded, some quite unfolded, +according to the size and shape of that which they covered. It +was worth while to see that long tableful, and the faces of +the company, before yet a napkin was touched. An anxious +glance at her own, showed Ellen that it lay quite flat; +Alice's, which was next, had an odd little rising in the +middle, as if there were a small dumpling under it. Ellen was +in an agony for this pause to come to an end. It was broken by +some of the older persons, and then in a trice every plate was +uncovered. And then, what a buzz! pleasure, and thanks, and +admiration, and even laughter. Ellen dreaded at first to look +at her plate; she bethought her, however, that if she waited +long, she would have to do it with all eyes upon her; she +lifted the napkin slowly; yes just as she feared there +lay a clean bank-note of what value she could not see, for +confusion covered her; the blood rushed to her cheeks and the +tears to her eyes. She could not have spoken, and happily it +was no time then; everybody else was speaking she could not +have been heard. She had time to cool and recollect herself; +but she sat with her eyes cast down, fastened upon her plate +and the unfortunate bank-bill, which she detested with all her +heart. She did not know what Alice had received; she +understood nothing that was going on, till Alice touched her, +and said gently, "Mr. Marshman is speaking to you, Ellen." + +"Sir!" said Ellen, starting. + +"You need not look so terrified," said Mr. Marshman, smiling; +"I only asked you if your bill was a counterfeit something +seems to be wrong about it." + +Ellen looked at her plate and hesitated. Her lip trembled. + +"What is it?" continued the old gentleman. "Is anything the +matter." + +Ellen desperately took up the bill, and with burning cheeks, +marched to his end of the table. + +"I am very much obliged to you, Sir, but I had a great deal +rather not if you please if you will please to be so good +as to let me give it back to you I should be very glad." + +"Why, hoity-toity!" said the old gentleman "what's all this? +what's the matter? don't you like it? I thought I was doing +the very thing that would please you best of all." + +"I am very sorry you should think so, Sir," said Ellen, who +had recovered a little breath, but had the greatest difficulty +to keep back her tears; "I never thought of such a thing as +your giving me anything, Sir, till somebody spoke of it; and I +had rather never have anything in the world than that you +should think what you thought about me." + +"What _did_ I think about you?" + +"George told me that somebody told you, Sir, I wanted money +for my present." + +"And didn't you say so?" + +"Indeed I didn't, Sir!" said Ellen, with a sudden fire. "I +never thought of such a thing!" + +"What did you say then?" + +"Margaret was showing us her ear-rings, and she asked me if I +wouldn't like to have some like them; and I couldn't help +thinking I would a great deal rather have the money they would +cost to buy something for Alice; and just when I said so, you +came in, Sir, and she said what she did. I was very much +ashamed. I wasn't thinking of you, Sir, at all, nor of New +Year." + +"Then you would like something else better than money." + +"No, Sir, nothing at all, if you please. If you'll only be so +good as not to give me this, I will be very much obliged to +you indeed; and please not to think I could be so shameful as +you thought I was." + +Ellen's face was not to be withstood. The old gentleman took +the bill from her hand. + +"I will never think anything of you," said he, "but what is +the very tip-top of honourable propriety. But you make _me_ +ashamed now what am I going to do with this? here have you +come and made me a present, and I feel very awkward indeed." + +"I don't care what you do with it, Sir," said Ellen, laughing, +though in imminent danger of bursting into tears! "I am very +glad it is out of _my_ hands." + +"But you needn't think I am going to let you off so," said he + "you must give me half a dozen kisses at least, to prove +that you have forgiven me for making so great a blunder." + +"Half a dozen is too many at once," said Ellen, gaily; +"three now, and three to-night." + +So she gave the old gentleman three kisses, but he caught her +in his arms and gave her a dozen at least; after which he +found out that the waiter was holding a cup of coffee at his +elbow, and Ellen went back to her place with a very good +appetite for her breakfast. + +After breakfast the needlecases were delivered. Both gave the +most entire satisfaction. Mrs. Chauncey assured her daughter +that she would quite as lief have a yellow as a red rose on +the cover, and that she liked the inscription extremely; which +the little girl acknowledged to have been a joint device of +her own and Ellen's. Ellen's bag gave great delight, and was +paraded all over the house. + +After the bustle of thanks and rejoicing was at last over, and +when she had a minute to herself, which Ellen Chauncey did not +give her for a good while, Ellen bethought her of her flowers +a sweet gift still to be made. Why not make it now? why should +not Alice have the pleasure of them all day? A bright thought! +Ellen ran forthwith to the house-keeper's room, and after a +long, admiring look at her treasures, carried them, glass and +all, to the library, where Alice and John often were in the +morning alone. Alice thanked her in the way she liked best, +and then the flowers were smelled and admired afresh. + +"Nothing could have been pleasanter to me, Ellie, except Mr. +Marshman's gift." + +"And what was that, Alice? I haven't seen it yet." + +Alice pulled out of her pocket a small, round, morocco case, +the very thing that Ellen had thought looked like a dumpling +under the napkin, and opened it. + +"It's Mr. John!" exclaimed Ellen. "Oh, how beautiful!" + +Neither of her hearers could help laughing. + +"It is very fine, Ellie," said Alice; "you are quite right. +Now I know what was the business that took John to Randolph +every day, and kept him there so long, while I was wondering +at him unspeakably. Kind, kind Mr. Marshman!" + +"Did Mr. John get anything?" + +"Ask him, Ellie." + +"Did you get anything, Mr. John?" said Ellen, going up to him +where he was reading on the sofa. + +"I got this," said John, handing her a little book which lay +beside him. + +"What is this! Wime's Wiem's Life of Washington +Washington? he was may I look at it?" + +"Certainly!" + +She opened the book, and presently sat down on the floor where +she was, by the side of the sofa. Whatever she had found +within the leaves of the book, she had certainly lost herself. +An hour passed. Ellen had not spoken or moved except to turn +over leaves. + +"Ellen!" said John. + +She looked up her cheeks coloured high. + +"What have you found there?" said he, smiling. + +"Oh, a great deal! But did Mr. Marshman give you this?" + +"No." + +"O!" said Ellen, looking puzzled, "I thought you said you got +this this morning." + +"No, I got it last night. I got it for you, Ellie." + +"For me!" said Ellen, her colour deepening very much; "for me! +did you? Oh, thank you! oh, I'm so much obliged to you, Mr. +John!" + +"It is only an answer to one of your questions." + +"This! is it? I don't know what, I am sure. Oh, I wish I could +do something to please you, Mr. John!" + +"You shall, Ellie; you shall give me a brother's right again." + +Blushingly Ellen approached her lips to receive one of his +grave kisses; and then, not at all displeased, went down on +the floor, and was lost in her book. + +Oh, the long joy of that New Year's day! how shall it be +told? The pleasure of that delightful book, in which she was +wrapped the whole day even when called off, as she often +was, by Ellen Chauncey, to help her in fifty little matters of +business or pleasure. These were attended to, and faithfully +and cheerfully, but _the book_ was in her head all the while. +And this pleasure was mixed with Alice's pleasure, the flowers +and the miniature, and Mr. Marshman's restored kindness. She +never met John's or Alice's eye that day without a smile. Even +when she went to be dressed, her book went with her, and was +laid on the bed within sight, ready to be taken up the moment +she was at liberty. Ellen Chauncey lent her a white frock, +which was found to answer very well with a tuck let out; and +Alice herself dressed her. While this was doing, Margaret +Dunscombe put her head in at the door to ask Anne, Miss +Sophia's maid, if she was almost ready to come and curl her +hair. + +"Indeed I can't say that I am, Miss Margaret," said Anne. +"I've something to do for Miss Humphreys, and Miss Sophia +hasn't so much as done the first thing towards beginning to +get ready yet. It'll be a good hour, and more." + +Margaret went away, exclaiming, impatiently, that she could +get nobody to help her, and would have to wait till everybody +was downstairs. + +A few minutes after, she heard Ellen's voice at the door of +her room, asking if she might come in. + +"Yes who's that? what do you want?" + +"I'll fix your hair if you'll let me," said Ellen. + +"You? I don't believe you can." + +"Oh, yes, I can; I used to do Mamma's very often; I am not +afraid, if you'll trust me." + +"Well, thank you, I don't care if you try, then," said +Margaret, seating herself; "it won't do any harm, at any rate; +and I want to be downstairs before anybody gets here; I think +it's half the fun to see them come in. Bless me! you're +dressed and all ready." + +Margaret's hair was in long, thick curls; it was not a +trifling matter to dress them. Ellen plodded through it +patiently and faithfully, taking great pains, and doing the +work well, and then went back to Alice. Margaret's thanks, not +very gracefully given, would have been a poor reward for the +loss of three-quarters of an hour of pleasure. But Ellen was +very happy in having done right. It was no longer time to +read; they must go downstairs. + +The New Year's party was a nondescript young and old +together; a goodly number of both were gathered from Randolph +and the neighbouring country. There were games for the young, +dancing for the gay, and a superb supper for all; and the big, +bright rooms were full of bright faces. It was a very happy +evening to Ellen. For a good part of it, Mr. Marshman took +possession of her, or kept her near him; and his extreme +kindness would alone have made the evening pass pleasantly; +she was sure he was her firm friend again. + +In the course of the evening, Mrs. Chauncey found occasion to +ask her about her journey up the river, without at all +mentioning Margaret, or what she had said. Ellen answered that +she had come with Mrs. Dunscombe and her daughter. + +"Did you have a pleasant time?" asked Mrs. Chauncey. + +"Why, no, Ma'am." Said Ellen "I don't know it was partly +pleasant, and partly unpleasant." + +"What made it so, love?" + +"I had left Mamma that morning, and that made me unhappy." + +"But you said it was partly pleasant?" + +"Oh, that was because I had such a good friend on board," said +Ellen, her face lighting up, as his image came before her. + +"Who was that?" + +"I don't know, Ma'am, who he was." + +"A stranger to you?" + +"Yes, Ma'am I never saw him before I wish I could see him +again." + +"Where did you find him?" + +"I didn't find him he found me, when I was sitting up on the +highest part of the boat." + +"And your friends with you?" + +"What friends?" + +"Mrs. Dunscombe and her daughter." + +"No, Ma'am they were down in the cabin." + +"And what business had you to be wandering about the boat +alone?" said Mr. Marshman, good-humouredly. + +"They were strangers, Sir," said Ellen, colouring a little. + +"Well, so was this man your friend a stranger, too, wasn't +he?" + +"Oh, he was a very different stranger," said Ellen, smiling, +"and he wasn't a stranger long, besides." + +"Well, you must tell me more about him come, I'm curious; +what sort of a strange friend was this?" + +"He wasn't a _strange_ friend," said Ellen, laughing; "he was +a very, very good friend; he took care of me the whole day; he +was very good and very kind." + +"What kind of a man?" said Mrs. Chauncey; "a gentleman?" + +"Oh, yes, Ma'am!" said Ellen, looking surprised at the +question. "I am sure he was." + +"What did he look like?" + +Ellen tried to tell, but the portrait was not very distinct. + +"What did he wear? Coat or cloak?" + +"Coat dark brown, I think." + +"This was the end of October, wasn't it?" + +Ellen thought a moment and answered, "yes." + +"And you don't know his name?" + +"No, Ma'am; I wish I did." + +"I can tell you," said Mrs. Chauncey, smiling; "he is one of +my best friends, too, Ellen; it is my brother, Mr. George +Marshman." + +How Ellen's face crimsoned! Mr. Marshman asked how she knew. + +"It was then he came up the river, you know, Sir; and don't +you remember his speaking of a little girl on board the boat, +who was travelling with strangers, and whom he endeavoured to +befriend? I had forgotten it entirely till a minute or two +ago." + +"Miss Margaret Dunscombe!" cried George Walsh, "what kind of a +person was that you said Ellen was so fond of when you came up +the river?" + +"I don't know, nor care," said Margaret. "Somebody she picked +up somewhere." + +"It was Mr. George Marshman!" + +"It wasn't." + +"Uncle George!" exclaimed Ellen Chauncey, running up to the +group her cousin had quitted; "_my_ uncle George? Do you know +uncle George, Ellen?" + +"Very much I mean yes," said Ellen. + +Ellen Chauncey was delighted. So was Ellen Montgomery. It +seemed to bring the whole family nearer to her, and they felt +it, too. Mrs. Marshman kissed her when she heard it, and said +she remembered very well her son's speaking of her, and was +very glad to find who it was. And now, Ellen thought, she +would surely see him again some time. + +The next day they left Ventnor. Ellen Chauncey was very sorry +to lose her new friend, and begged she would come again "as +soon as she could." All the family said the same. Mr. Marshman +told her she must give him a large place in her heart, or he +should be jealous of her "strange friend;" and Alice was +charged to bring her whenever she came to see them. + +The drive back to Carra-carra was scarcely less pleasant than +the drive out had been; and home, Ellen said, looked lovely; +that is, Alice's home, which she began to think more her own +than any other. The pleasure of the past ten days, though +great, had not been unmixed; the week that followed was one of +perfect enjoyment. In Mr. Humphreys' household there was an +atmosphere of peace and purity, that even a child could feel, +and in which such a child as Ellen throve exceedingly. The +drawing lessons went on with great success; other lessons were +begun; there were fine, long walks, and charming sleigh-rides, +and more than one visit to Mrs. Vawse; and what Ellen, +perhaps, liked the best of all, the long evenings of +conversation, and reading aloud, and bright fire-lights, and +brighter sympathy, and intelligence, and affection. That week +did them all good, and no one more than Ellen. + +It was a little hard to go back to Miss Fortune's, and begin +her old life there. She went on the evening of the day John +had departed. They were at supper. + +"Well!" said Miss Fortune, as Ellen entered, "have you got +enough of visiting? I should be ashamed to go where I wasn't +wanted, for my part." + +"I haven't, Aunt Fortune," said Ellen. + +"She's been nowhere but what's done her good," said Mr. Van +Brunt; "she's reely growed handsome since she's been away." + +"Grown a fiddlestick!" said Miss Fortune. + +"She couldn't grow handsomer than she was before," said the +old grandmother, hugging and kissing her little grand-daughter +with great delight; "the sweetest posie in the garden she +always was!" + +Mr. Van Brunt looked as if he entirely agreed with the old +lady. That, while it made some amends for Miss Fortune's +dryness, perhaps increased it. She remarked, that "she thanked +Heaven she could always make herself contented at home;" which +Ellen could not help thinking was a happiness for the rest of +the world. + +In the matter of the collar, it was hard to say whether the +giver or receiver had the most satisfaction. Ellen had begged +him not to speak of it to her aunt; and accordingly, one +Sunday, when he came there with it on, both he and she were in +a state of exquisite delight. Miss Fortune's attention was at +last aroused; she made a particular review of him, and ended +it by declaring, that "he looked uncommonly dandified, but she +could not make out what he had done to himself;" a remark +which transported Mr. Van Brunt and Ellen beyond all bounds of +prudence. + +Nancy's Bible, which had been purchased for her at Randolph, +was given to her the first opportunity. Ellen anxiously +watched her as she slowly turned it over, her face showing, +however, very decided approbation of the style of the gift. +She shook her head once or twice, and then said + +"What did you give this to me for, Ellen?" + +"Because I wanted to give you something for New Year," said +Ellen "and I thought that would be the best thing if you +would only read it it would make you so happy and good." + +"_You_ are good, I believe," said Nancy, "but I don't expect +ever to be, myself I don't think I _could_ be. You might as +well teach a snake not to wriggle." + +"I am not good at all," said Ellen "we're none of us good;" +and the tears rose to her eyes; "but the Bible will teach us +how to be. If you'll only read it! please, Nancy, do! say +you will read a little every day." + +"You don't want me to make a promise I shouldn't keep, I +guess, do you?" + +"No," said Ellen. + +"Well, I shouldn't keep that, so I won't promise it; but I +tell you what I will do, I'll take precious fine care of it +and keep it always for your sake." + +"Well," said Ellen, sighing "I am glad you will even do so +much as that. But, Nancy, before you begin to read the Bible, +you may have to go where you never can read it, nor be happy +nor good neither." + +Nancy made no answer, but walked away, Ellen thought, rather +more soberly than usual. + +This conversation had cost Ellen some effort. It had not been +made without a good deal of thought and some prayer. She could +not hope she had done much good, but she had done her duty. +And it happened that Mr. Van Brunt, standing behind the angle +of the wall, had heard every word. + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +A gathering cloud in the spring weather. + + +Ellen's life had nothing to mark it for many months. The rest +of the winter passed quietly away, every day being full of +employment. At home the state of matters was rather bettered. +Either Miss Fortune was softened by Ellen's gentle, +inoffensive ways and obedient usefulness, or she had resolved +to bear what could not be helped, and make the best of the +little inmate she could not get rid of. She was certainly +resolved to make the _most_ of her. Ellen was kept on the jump a +great deal of the time: she was runner of errands and maid of +all work to set the table and clear it was only a trifle in +the list of her every-day duties and they were not ended +till the last supper dish was put away and the hearth swept +up. Miss Fortune never spared herself, and never spared Ellen, +so long as she had any occasion for her. + +There were, however, long pieces of time that were left free +these Ellen seized for her studies and used most diligently; +urged on by a three or four-fold motive; for the love of them, +and for her own sake, that John might think she had done well + that she might presently please and satisfy Alice above +all, that her mother's wishes might be answered. This thought, +whenever it came, was a spur to her efforts so was each of +the others; and Christian feeling added another, and kept all +the rest in force. Without this, indolence might have +weakened, or temptation surprised her resolution; little Ellen +was open to both; but if ever she found herself growing +careless from either cause, conscience was sure to smite her; +and then would rush in all the motives that called upon her to +persevere. Soon faithfulness began to bring its reward. With +delight she found herself getting the better of difficulties, +beginning to see a little through the mists of ignorance, +making some sensible progress on the long road of learning. +Study grew delightful her lessons with Alice one of her +greatest enjoyments. And as they were a labour of love to both +teacher and scholar, and as it was the aim of each to see +quite to the bottom of every matter, where it was possible, +and to leave no difficulties behind them on the road which +they had not cleared away, no wonder Ellen went forward +steadily and rapidly. Reading also became a wonderful +pleasure. Weems' _Life of Washington_ was read, and read, and +read over again, till she almost knew it by heart; and from +that she went to Alice's library, and ransacked it for what +would suit her. Happily it was a well-picked one, and Ellen +could not light upon many books that would do her mischief. +For those, Alice's wish was enough she never opened them. +Furthermore, Alice insisted that when Ellen had once fairly +begun a book she should go through with it not capriciously +leave it for another, nor have half a dozen about at a time. +But when Ellen had read it once she commonly wanted to go over +it again, and seldom laid it aside until she had sucked the +sweetness all out of it. + +As for drawing, it could not go on very fast while the cold +weather lasted. Ellen had no place at home where she could +spread out her paper and copies without danger of being +disturbed. Her only chance was at the parsonage. John had put +all her pencils in order before he went, and had left her an +abundance of copies, marked as she was to take them. They, or +some of them, were bestowed in Alice's desk; and whenever +Ellen had a spare hour or two, of a fine morning or afternoon, +she made the best of her way to the mountain; it made no +difference whether Alice were at home or not she went in, +coaxed up the fire, and began her work. It happened many a +time that Alice, coming home from a walk or a run in the +woods, saw the little hood and cloak on the settee before she +opened the glass door, and knew very well how she should find +Ellen, bending intently over her desk. These runs to the +mountain were very frequent; sometimes to draw, sometimes to +recite, always to see Alice and be happy. Ellen grew rosy, and +hardy, and in spite of her separation from her mother, she was +very happy, too. Her extreme and varied occupation made this +possible. She had no time to indulge useless sorrow; on the +contrary, her thoughts were taken up with agreeable matters, +either doing or to be done; and at night, she was far too +tired and sleepy to lie awake musing. And besides she hoped +that her mother would come back in the spring, or the summer +at farthest. It is true Ellen had no liking for the kind of +business her aunt gave her it was often-times a trial of +temper and patience. Miss Fortune was not the pleasantest +work-mistress in the world, and Ellen was apt to wish to be +doing something else; but, after all, this was not amiss. +Besides, the discipline of character, these trials made the +pleasant things with which they were mixed up seem doubly +pleasant the disagreeable parts of her life relished the +agreeable wonderfully. After spending the whole morning with +Miss Fortune in the depths of house-work, how delightful it +was to forget all in drawing some nice little cottage, with a +bit of stone wall, and a barrel in front! or to go with Alice, +in thought, to the south of France, and learn how the peasants +manage their vines, and make the wine from them; or run over +the Rock of Gibraltar with the monkeys; or, at another time, +seated on a little bench in the chimney corner, when the fire +blazed up well, before the candles were lighted, to forget the +kitchen, and the supper, and her bustling aunt, and sail round +the world with Captain Cook. Yes these things were all the +sweeter for being tasted by snatches. + +Spring brought new occupation; household labours began to +increase in number and measure; her leisure times were +shortened. But pleasures were increased too. When the snow +went off, and spring-like days began to come, and birds' notes +were heard again, and the trees put out their young leaves, +and the brown mountains were looking soft and green, Ellen's +heart bounded at the sight. The springing grass was lovely to +see; dandelions were marvels of beauty; to her each wild wood- +flower was a never to be enough admired and loved wonder. She +used to take long rambles with Mr. Van Brunt when business led +him to the woods, sometimes riding part of the way on the ox- +sled. Always a basket for flowers went along; and when the +sled stopped, she would wander all around seeking among the +piled-up dead leaves for the white wind-flower, and pretty +little hang-head uvularia, and delicate blood-root, and the +wild geranium and columbine; and many others, the names of +which she did not know. They were like friends to Ellen; she +gathered them affectionately as well as admiringly into her +little basket, and seemed to purify herself in their pure +companionship. Even Mr. Van Brunt came to have an indistinct +notion that Ellen and flowers were made to be together. After +he found what a pleasure it was to her to go on these +expeditions, he made it a point, whenever he was bound to the +woods of a fine day, to come to the house for her. Miss +Fortune might object as she pleased; he always found an +answer; and at last Ellen, to her great joy, would be told, +"Well! go get your bonnet and be off with yourself." Once +under the shadow of the big trees, the dried leaves crackling +beneath her feet, and alone with her kind conductor and Miss +Fortune and all in the world that was disagreeable was +forgotten forgotten, no more to be remembered till the walk +should come to an end. And it would have surprised anybody to +hear the long conversations she and Mr. Van Brunt kept up +he, the silentest man in Thirlwall! Their talk often ran upon +trees, among which Mr. Van Brunt was at home. Ellen wanted to +become acquainted with them, as well as with the little +flowers that grew at their feet; and he tried to teach her how +to know each separate kind by the bark and leaf and manner of +growth. The pine and hemlock and fir were easily learnt; the +white birch, too; beyond those, at first, she was perpetually +confounding one with another. Mr. Van Brunt had to go over and +over his instructions never weary, always vastly amused. +Pleasant lessons these were! Ellen thought so, and Mr. Van +Brunt thought so too. + +Then there were walks with Alice, pleasanter still, if that +could be. And even in the house, Ellen managed to keep a token +of spring-time. On her toilet-table, the three uncouth legs of +which were now hidden by a neat dimity cover, there always +stood a broken tumbler with a supply of flowers. The supply +was very varied, it is true; sometimes only a handful of +dandelions, sometimes a huge bunch of lilac flowers, which +could not be persuaded to stay in the glass without the help +of the wall, against which it leaned in very undignified +style; sometimes the bouquet was of really delicate and +beautiful wild-flowers. All were charming in Ellen's eyes. + +As the days grew long and the weather warm, Alice and she +began to make frequent trips to the Cat's Back, and French +came very much into fashion. They generally took Sharp to ease +the long way, and rested themselves with a good stay on the +mountain. Their coming was always a joy to the old lady. She +was dearly fond of them both, and delighted to hear from their +lips the language she loved best. After a time they spoke +nothing else when with her. She was well qualified to teach +them; and, indeed, her general education had been far from +contemptible, though nature had done more for her. As the +language grew familiar to them, she loved to tell and they to +hear long stories of her youth and native country scenes and +people so very different from all Ellen had ever seen or heard +of; and told in a lively, simple style, which she could not +have given in English, and with a sweet colouring of Christian +thought and feeling. Many things made these visits good and +pleasant. It was not the least of Alice's and Ellen's joy to +carry their old friend something that might be for her comfort +in her lonely way of life. For even Miss Fortune now and then +told Ellen "she might take a piece of that cheese along with +her;" or, "she wondered if the old lady would like a little +fresh meat; she guessed she'd cut her a bit of that nice +lamb; she wouldn't want but a little piece." A singular +testimony this was to the respect and esteem of Mrs. Vawse had +from everybody. Miss Fortune very, very seldom was known to +take a bit from her own comforts to add to those of another. +The ruling passion of this lady was thrift; her next, good +housewifery. First, to gather to herself and heap up of what +the world most esteems; after that, to be known as the most +thorough housekeeper and the smartest woman in Thirlwall. + +Ellen made other visits she did not like so well. In the +course of the winter and summer she became acquainted with +most of the neighbourhood. She sometimes went with her aunt to +a formal tea-drinking, one, two, three, or four miles off, as +the case might be. They were not very pleasant. To some places +she was asked by herself; and though the people invariably +showed themselves very kind, and did their best to please her, +Ellen seldom cared to go a second time liked even home and +Miss Fortune better. There were a few exceptions; Jenny +Hitchcock was one of her favourites, and Jane Huff was +another; and all of their respective families came in, with +good reason, for a share of her regard Mr. Juniper, indeed, +excepted. Once they went to a quilting at Squire Dennison's; +the house was spotlessly neat and well-ordered; the people all +kind; but Ellen thought they did not seem to know how to be +pleasant. Dan Dennison alone had no stiffness about him. Miss +Fortune remarked with pride, that even in this family of +pretension, as she thought it, the refreshments could bear no +comparison with hers. Once they were invited to tea at the +Lawsons'; but Ellen told Alice, with much apparent disgust, +that she never wanted to go again. Mrs. Van Brunt she saw +often. To Thirlwall, Miss Fortune never went. + +Twice in the course of the summer Ellen had a very great +pleasure in the company of little Ellen Chauncey. Once Miss +Sophia brought her, and once her mother; and the last time +they made a visit of two weeks. On both occasions Ellen was +sent for to the parsonage, and kept while they stayed; and the +pleasure that she and her little friend had together cannot be +told. It was unmixed now. Rambling about through the woods and +over the fields, no matter where, it was all enchanting; +helping Alice garden; helping Thomas make hay, and the +mischief they did his haycocks by tumbling upon them, and the +patience with which he bore it; the looking for eggs; the +helping Margery to churn, and the helping each other to set +tables; the pleasant mornings, and pleasant evenings, and +pleasant mid-days it cannot be told. Long to be remembered, +sweet and pure, was the pleasure of those summer days, +unclouded by a shade of discontent or disagreement on either +brow. Ellen loved the whole Marshman family now, for the sake +of one, the one she had first known; and little Ellen Chauncey +repeatedly told her mother in private that Ellen Montgomery +was the very nicest girl she had ever seen. They met with joy, +and parted with sorrow, entreating and promising if possible, +a speedy meeting again. + +Amidst all the improvement and enjoyment of these summer +months and they had a great deal of both for Ellen there +was one cause of sorrow she could not help feeling, and it +began to press more and more. Letters they came slowly and +when they came, they were not at all satisfactory. Those in +her mother's hand dwindled and dwindled, till at last there +came only mere scraps of letters from her; and sometimes, +after a long interval, one from Captain Montgomery would come +alone. Ellen's heart sickened with long-deferred hope. She +wondered what could make her mother neglect a matter so +necessary for her happiness; sometimes she fancied they were +travelling about, and it might be inconvenient to write; +sometimes she thought, perhaps they were coming home without +letting her know, and would suddenly surprise her some day, +and make her half lose her wits with joy. But they did not +come, nor write; and, whatever was the reason, Ellen felt it +was very sad, and sadder and sadder as the summer went on. Her +own letters became pitiful in their supplications for letters; +they _had_ been very cheerful, and filled with encouraging +matter, and in part they were still. + +For a while her mind was diverted from this sad subject, and +her brow cleared up, when John came home in August. As before, +Alice gained Miss Fortune's leave to keep her at the parsonage +the whole time of his stay, which was several weeks. Ellen +wondered that it was so easily granted, but she was much too +happy to spend time in thinking about it. Miss Fortune had +several reasons. She was unwilling to displease Miss +Humphreys, and conscious that it would be a shame to her to +stand openly in the way of Ellen's good. Besides, though +Ellen's services were lost for a time, yet she said she got +tired of setting her to work; she liked to dash round the +house alone, without thinking what somebody else was doing or +ought to be doing. In short, she liked to have her out of the +way for a while. Furthermore, it did not please her that Mr. +Van Brunt and her little handmaid were, as she expressed it, +"so thick." His first thought, and his last thought, she said, +she believed, were for Ellen, whether she came in or went out; +and Miss Fortune was accustomed to be chief, not only in her +own house, but in the regards of all who came to it. At any +rate, the leave was granted and Ellen went. + +And now was repeated the pleasure of the first week in +January. It would have been increased, but that increase was +not possible. There was only the difference between lovely +winter and lovely summer weather; it was seldom very hot in +Thirlwall. The fields and hills were covered with green +instead of white; fluttering leaves had taken the place of +snow-covered sprays and sparkling icicles; and for the keen +north and brisk northwester, soft summer airs were blowing. +Ellen saw no other difference except that, perhaps, if it +could be, there was something more of tenderness in the manner +of Alice and her brother towards her. No little sister could +have been more cherished and cared for. If there was a change, +Mr. Humphreys shared it. It is true, he seldom took much part +in the conversation, and seldomer was with them in any of +their pursuits or pleasures. He generally kept by himself in +his study. But whenever he did speak to Ellen, his tone was +particularly gentle, and his look kind. He sometimes called +her "My little daughter," which always gave Ellen great +pleasure; she would jump at such times with double zeal, to do +anything he asked her. + +Now drawing went on with new vigour under the eye of her +master. And many things beside. John took a great deal of +pains with her in various ways. He made her read to him; he +helped her and Alice with their French; he went with them to +Mrs. Vawse's; and even Mr. Humphreys went there too, one +afternoon to tea. How much Ellen enjoyed that afternoon! They +took with them a great basket of provisions, for Mrs. Vawse +could not be expected to entertain so large a party; and +borrowed Jenny Hitchcock's pony, which, with old John and +Sharp, mounted three of the company; they took turns in +walking. Nobody minded that. The fine weather, the beautiful +mountain-top, the general pleasure, Mr. Humphreys' uncommon +spirits and talkableness, the oddity of their way of +travelling, and of a tea-party up on the "Cat's Back," and, +furthermore, the fact that Nancy stayed at home and behaved +very well the whole time, all together filled Ellen's cup of +happiness, for the time, as full as it could hold. She never +forgot that afternoon. And the ride home was the best of all. +The sun was low by the time they reached the plain; long +shadows lay across their road; the soft air just stirred the +leaves on the branches; stillness and loveliness were over all +things; and down the mountain and along the roads, through the +open country, the whole way, John walked at her bridle; so +kind in his care of her, so pleasant in his talk to her, +teaching her how to sit in the saddle, and hold the reins and +whip, and much more important things, too, that Ellen thought +a pleasanter thing could not be than to ride so. After that +they took a great many rides, borrowing Jenny's pony or some +other, and explored the beautiful country far and near. And +almost daily, John had up Sharp and gave Ellen a regular +lesson. She often thought, and sometimes looked, what she had +once said to him, "I wish I could do something for _you_, Mr. +John;" but he smiled at her, and said nothing. + +At last he was gone. And in all the week he had been at home, +and in many weeks before, no letter had come for Ellen. The +thought had been kept from weighing upon her by the thousand +pleasures that filled up every moment of his stay; she could +not be sad then, or only for a minute; hope threw off the +sorrow as soon as it was felt; and she forgot how time flew. +But when his visit was over, and she went back to her old +place and her old life at her aunt's, the old feeling came +back in greater strength. She began again to count the days +and the weeks; to feel the bitter unsatisfied longing. Tears +would drop down upon her Bible; tears streamed from her eyes +when she prayed that God would make her mother well and bring +her home to her quickly oh! quickly! and little Ellen's +face began to wear once more something of its old look. + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +The cloud overhead. + + +One day in the early part of September, she was standing in +front of the house at the little wicket that opened on the +road. With her back against the open gate, she was gently +moving it to and fro, half-enjoying the weather and the scene, +half-indulging the melancholy mood which drove her from the +presence of her bustling aunt. The gurgling sound of the brook +a few steps off was a great deal more soothing to her ear than +Miss Fortune's sharp tones. By-and-by a horseman came in sight +at the far end of the road, and the brook was forgotten. What +made Ellen look at him so sharply? Poor child! she was always +expecting news. At first she could only see that the man rode +a white horse; then, as he came nearer, an odd looped-up hat +showed itself and something queer in his hand what was it? +who is it? the old newsman! Ellen was sure. Yes she could +now see the saddle-bags, and the white horsetail set in a +handle, with which he was brushing away the flies from his +horse; the tin trumpet was in his other hand, to blow withal. +He was a venerable old figure, with all his oddities; clad in +a suit of snuff brown, with a neat, quiet look about him, he +and the saddle-bags and the white horse jogged on together as +if they belonged to nothing else in the world but each other. +In an ecstasy of fear and hope, Ellen watched the pace of the +old horse to see if it gave any sign of slackening near the +gate. Her breath came short, she hardly breathed at all, she +was trembling from head to foot. _Would_ he stop, or was he +going on? Oh! the long agony of two minutes! He stopped. Ellen +went towards him. + +"What little gal is this?" said he. + +"I am Ellen Montgomery, Sir," said Ellen, eagerly, "Miss +Fortune's niece I live here." + +"Stop a bit," said the old man, taking up his saddle-bags; +"Miss Fortune's niece, eh? Well, I believe as I've got +somethin' for her somethin' here. Aunt well, eh?" + +"Yes, Sir." + +"That's more than you be, ain't it?" said he, glancing +sideways at Ellen's face. "How do you know but I've got a +letter for you here, eh?" + +The colour rushed to that face, and she clasped her hands. + +"No, dear, no," said he; "I han't got any for you it's for +the old lady; there, run in with it, dear." + +But Ellen knew before she touched it that it was a foreign +letter, and dashed into the house with it. Miss Fortune coolly +sent her back to pay the postage. + +When she came in again, her aunt was still reading the letter. +But her look, Ellen _felt_, was unpromising. She did not venture +to speak expectation was chilled. She stood till Miss +Fortune began to fold up the paper. + +"Is there nothing for me?" she said then, timidly. + +"No." + +"Oh! why don't she write to me?" cried Ellen, bursting into +tears. + +Miss Fortune stalked about the room, without any particular +purpose as far as could be seen. + +"It is very strange," said Ellen, sorrowfully; "I am afraid +she is worse. Does papa say she is worse?" + +"No." + +"Oh! if she had only sent me a message! I should think she +might oh! I wish she had! three words! does papa say why +she don't write?" + +"No." + +"It is very strange!" repeated poor Ellen. + +"Your father talks of coming home," said Miss Fortune, after a +few minutes, during which Ellen had been silently weeping. + +"Home! then she must be better!" said Ellen, with new life; +"does papa say she is better?" + +"No." + +"But what does he mean?" said Ellen, uneasily; "I don't see +what he means; he doesn't say she is worse, and he doesn't say +she is better; what does he say?" + +"He don't say much about anything." + +"Does he say when they are coming home?" + +Miss Fortune mumbled something about "spring," and whisked off +to the buttery; Ellen thought no more was to be got out of +her. She felt miserable. Her father and her aunt both seemed +to act strangely; and where to find comfort she scarcely knew. +She had one day been telling her doubts and sorrows to John. +He did not try to raise her hopes, but said + +"Troubles will come in this world, Ellie; the best is to trust +them and ourselves to our dear Saviour, and let trials drive +us to him. Seek to love him more, and to be patient under his +will; the good Shepherd means nothing but kindness to any lamb +in his flock you may be sure of that, Ellie." + +Ellen remembered his words, and tried to follow them now, but +she could not be "patient under his will" yet not quite. It +was very hard to be patient in such uncertainty. With swimming +eyes she turned over her Bible in search of comfort, and found +it. Her eye lit upon words she knew very well, but that were +like the fresh sight of a friend's face for all that, "Let +not your heart be troubled; ye believe in God, believe also in +me. In my Father's house are many mansions." There is no +parting there, thought little Ellen. She cried a long time, +but she was comforted, nevertheless. The heart that rests on +the blessed One who said those words can never be quite +desolate. + +For several days things went on in the old train, only her +aunt, she thought, was sometimes rather queer not quite as +usual in her manner towards her. Mr. Van Brunt was not _rather_, +but _very_ queer; he scarce spoke or looked at Ellen; bolted +down his food, and was off without a word; and even stayed +away entirely from two or three meals. She saw nobody else. +Weather and other circumstances prevented her going to the +mountain. + +One afternoon, she was giving her best attention to a French +lesson, when she heard herself called. Miss Fortune was in the +lower kitchen, dipping candles. Ellen ran down. + +"I don't know what's got into these candles," said Miss +Fortune. "I can't make 'em hang together; the tallow ain't +good, I guess. Where's the nearest place they keep bees?" + +"They have got bees at Mrs. Hitchcock's," said Ellen. + +"So they have in Egypt, for anything I know," said her aunt; +"one would be about as much good now as t'other. Mrs. Lowndes + that ain't far off. Put on your bonnet, Ellen, and run over +there, and ask her to let me have a little bees'-wax. I'll pay +her in something she likes best." + +"Does Mrs. Lowndes keep bee-hives?" said Ellen, doubtfully. + +"No; she makes the bees'-wax herself," said Miss Fortune, in +the tone she always took when anybody presumed to suppose she +might be mistaken in anything. + +"How much shall I ask for?" said Ellen. + +"Oh, I don't know a pretty good piece." + +Ellen was not very clear what quantity this might mean. +However, she wisely asked no more questions, and set out upon +her walk. It was hot and disagreeable; just the time of day +when the sun had most power, and Mrs. Lowndes' house was about +half-way on the road to Alice's. It was not a place where +Ellen liked to go, though the people always made much of her; +she did not fancy them, and regularly kept out of their way +when she could. Miss Mary Lawson was sitting with Mrs. Lowndes +and her daughter, when Ellen came in and briefly gave her +aunt's message. + +"Bees'-wax," said Mrs. Lowndes "well, I don't know How +much does she want?" + +"I don't know, Ma'am, exactly: she said a pretty good piece." + +"What's it for, do you know, honey?" + +"I believe it's to put in some tallow for candles," said +Ellen; "the tallow was too soft, she said." + +"I didn't know Miss Fortune's tallow was ever anything but the +hardest," said Sarah Lowndes. + +"You had better not let your aunt know you've told on her, +Ellen," remarked Mary Lawson; "she won't thank you." + +"Had she a good lot of taller to make up?" inquired the +mother, preparing to cut her bees'-wax. + +"I don't know, Ma'am; she had a big kettle, but I don't know +how full it was." + +"You may as well send a good piece, Ma, while you are about +it," said the daughter "and ask her to let us have a piece +of her sage cheese, will you?" + +"Is it worth while to weigh it?" whispered Mrs. Lowndes. + +Her daughter answered in the same tone, and Miss Mary joining +them, a conversation of some length went on over the bees'- +wax, which Ellen could not hear. The tones of the speakers +became lower and lower; till at length her own name and an +incautious sentence were spoken more distinctly, and reached +her. + +"Shouldn't you think Miss Fortune might put a black ribbon at +least on her bonnet?" + +"Anybody but her would." + +"Hush!" They whispered again under breath. + +The words entered Ellen's heart like cold iron. She did not +move hand or foot; she sat motionless with pain and fear, yet +what she feared she dared not think. When the bees'-wax was +given her, she rose up from her chair, and stood gazing into +Mrs. Lowndes' face as if she had lost her senses. + +"My goodness, child, how you look!" said that lady. "What ails +you, honey?" + +"Ma'am," said Ellen "what was that you said, about " + +"About what, dear?" said Mrs. Lowndes, with a startled look at +the others. + +"About a ribbon?" said Ellen, struggling to get the words +out of white lips. + +"My goodness!" said the other; "did you ever hear anything +like that? I didn't say nothing about a ribbon, dear." + +"Do you suppose her aunt han't told her?" said Miss Mary in an +under tone. + +"Told me what?" cried Ellen; "Oh! what? what?" + +"I wish I was a thousand miles off!" said Mrs. Lowndes; "I +don't know, dear I don't know what it is Miss Alice +knows." + +"Yes, ask Miss Alice," said Mary Lawson; "she knows better +than we do." + +Ellen looked doubtfully from one to the other; then, as "Go +ask Miss Alice," was repeated on all sides, she caught up her +bonnet, and flinging the bees'-wax from her hand, darted out +of the house. Those she had left, looked at each other a +minute in silence. + +"Ain't that too bad now!" exclaimed Mrs. Lowndes, crossing the +room to shut the door. "But what could I say?" + +"Which way did she go?" + +"I don't know I am sure I had no head to look, or anything +else. I wonder if I had ought to ha' told her. But I couldn't +ha' done it." + +"Just look at her bees'-wax!" said Sarah Lowndes. + +"She will kill herself if she runs up the mountain at that +rate," said Mary Lawson. + +They all made a rush to the door to look after her. + +"She ain't in sight," said Mrs. Lowndes; "if she's gone the +way to the Nose, she's got as far as them big poplars already, +or she'd be somewhere this side of 'em, where we could see +her." + +"You hadn't ought to ha' let her go, Ma'am, in all this sun," +said Miss Lowndes. + +"I declare," said Mrs. Lowndes, "she scared me so, I hadn't +three idees left in my head. I wish I knew where she was, +though, poor little soul!" + +Ellen was far on her way to the mountain, pressed forward by a +fear that knew no stay of heat or fatigue: they were little to +her that day. She saw nothing on her way; all within and +without were swallowed up in that one feeling; yet she dared +not think what it was she feared. She put that by. Alice knew: +Alice would tell her; on that goal her heart fixed, to that +she pressed on; but oh! the while, what a cloud was gathering +over her spirit, and growing darker and darker! Her hurry of +mind and hurry of body made each other worse; it must be so; +and when she at last ran round the corner of the house and +burst in at the glass door, she was in a frightful state. + +Alice started up and faced her as she came in, but with a look +that stopped Ellen short. She stood still; the colour in her +cheeks, as her eyes read Alice's, faded quite away; words, and +the power to speak them were gone together. Alas! the need to +utter them was gone too. Alice burst into tears, and held out +her arms, saying only, "My poor child!" Ellen reached her +arms, and strength and spirit seemed to fail there. Alice +thought she had fainted; she laid her on the sofa, called +Margery, and tried the usual things, weeping bitterly herself +as she did so. It was not fainting, however; Ellen's senses +soon came back; but she seemed like a person stunned with a +great blow, and Alice wished grief had had any other effect +upon her. It lasted for days. A kind of stupor hung over her; +tears did not come; the violent strain of every nerve and +feeling seemed to have left her benumbed. She would sleep +long, heavy sleeps the greater part of the time, and seemed to +have no power to do anything else. + +Her adopted sister watched her constantly, and for those days +lived but to watch her. She had heard all Ellen's story from +Mary Lawson and Mr. Van Brunt, who had both been to the +parsonage one on Mrs. Lowndes' part, the other on his own +to ask about her; and she dreaded that a violent fit of +illness might be brought on by all Ellen had undergone. She +was mistaken, however. Ellen was not ill; but her whole mind +and body bowed under the weight of the blow that had come upon +her. As the first stupor wore off, there were, indeed, more +lively signs of grief; she would weep till she wept her eyes +out, and that often, but it was very quietly; no passionate +sobbing, no noisy crying; sorrow had taken too strong hold to +be struggled with, and Ellen meekly bowed her head to it. +Alice saw this with the greatest alarm. She had refused to let +her go back to her aunt's; it was impossible to do otherwise; +yet it may be that Ellen would have been better there. The +busy industry to which she would have been forced at home +might have roused her; as it was, nothing drew her, and +nothing could be found to draw her from her own thoughts. Her +interest in everything seemed to be gone. Books had lost their +charm. Walks and drives and staying at home were all one +except, indeed, that she rather liked best the latter. +Appetite failed; her cheek grew colourless; and Alice began to +fear that if a stop were not soon put to this gradual sinking, +it would at last end with her life. But all her efforts were +without fruit; and the winter was a sorrowful one not to Ellen +alone. + +As it wore on, there came to be one thing in which Ellen again +took pleasure, and that was her Bible. She used to get alone +or into a corner with it, and turn the leaves over and over; +looking out its gentle promises, and sweet comforting words to +the weak and the sorrowing. She loved to read about Christ +all he said and did; all his kindness to his people, and +tender care of them; the love shown them here and the joys +prepared for them hereafter. She began to cling more to that +one unchangeable Friend from whose love neither life nor death +can sever those that believe in him; and her heart, tossed and +shaken as it had been, began to take rest again in that happy +resting-place with stronger affection, and even with greater +joy, than ever before. Yet for all that, this joy often kept +company with bitter weeping; the stirring of anything like +pleasure roused sorrow up afresh, and though Ellen's look of +sadness grew less dark, Alice could not see that her face was +at all less white and thin. She never spoke of her mother, +after once hearing when and where she had died; she never +hinted at her loss, except exclaiming in an agony, "I shall +get no more letters!" and Alice dared not touch upon what the +child seemed to avoid so carefully: though Ellen sometimes +wept on her bosom, and often sat for hours still and silent, +with her head in her lap. + +The time drew nigh when John was expected home for the +holidays. In the meanwhile they had had many visits from other +friends. Mr. Van Brunt had come several times, enough to set +the whole neighbourhood a-wondering, if they had only known +it; his good old mother oftener still; Mrs. Vawse as often as +possible; Miss Fortune once; and that because, as she said to +herself, "Everybody would be talking about what was none of +their business if she didn't." As neither she nor Ellen knew +in the least what to say to each other, the visit was rather a +dull one, spite of all Alice could do. Jenny Hitchcock, and +the Huffs, and the Dennisons and others, came now and then; +but Ellen did not like to see any of them all but Mrs. Vawse. +Alice longed for her brother. + +He came at last, just before New Year. It was the middle of a +fine afternoon, and Alice and her father had gone in the +sleigh to Carra-carra. Ellen had chosen to stay behind, but +Margery did not know this, and of course did not tell John. +After paying a visit to her in the kitchen, he had come back +to the empty sitting-room, and was thoughtfully walking up and +down the floor, when the door of Alice's room slowly opened, +and Ellen appeared. It was never her way, when she could help +it, to show violent feeling before other people; so she had +been trying to steel herself to meet John without crying, and +now came in with her little grave face, prepared not to give +way. His first look had like to overset it all. + +"Ellie!" said he; "I thought everybody was gone. My dear +Ellie!" + +Ellen could hardly stand the tone of these three words, and +she bore with the greatest difficulty the kiss that followed +them; it took but a word or two more, and a glance at the old +look and smile, to break down entirely all her guard. +According to her usual fashion, she was rushing away; but John +held her fast, and, though gently, drew her close to him. + +"I will not let you forget that I am your brother, Ellie," +said he. + +Ellen hid her face on his shoulder, and cried as if she had +never cried before. + +"Ellie," said he after a while, speaking low and tenderly, +"the Bible says, 'We have known and believed the love that God +hath towards us;' have you remembered and believed this +lately?" + +Ellen did not answer. + +"Have you remembered that God loves every sinner that has +believed in his dear Son? and loves them so well, that He +will let nothing come near them to harm them? and loves them +never better than when He sends bitter trouble on them? It is +wonderful! but it is true. Have you thought of this, Ellie?" + +She shook her head. + +"It is not in anger He does it; it is not that He has +forgotten you: it is not that He is careless of your trembling +little heart never, never! If you are his child, all is done +in love, and shall work good for you; and if we often cannot +see how, it is because we are weak and foolish, and can see +but a very little way." + +Ellen listened with her face hid on his shoulder. + +"Do you love Christ, Ellen?" + +She nodded, weeping afresh. + +"Do you love him less since he has brought you into this great +sorrow?" + +"No," sobbed Ellen, "_more!_" + +He drew her closer to his breast, and was silent a little +while. + +"I am very glad to hear you say that! then all will be well. +And haven't you the best reason to think that all _is_ well with +your dear mother?" + +Ellen almost shrieked. Her mother's name had not been spoken +before her in a great while, and she could hardly bear to hear +it now. Her whole frame quivered with hysterical sobs. + +"Hush, Ellie!" said John, in a tone that, low as it was, +somehow found its way through all her agitation, and calmed +her like a spell; "have you not good reason to believe that +all is well with her?" + +"Oh, yes! oh, yes!" + +"She loved and trusted Him, too; and now she is with Him she +has reached that bright home where there is no more sin, nor +sorrow, nor death." + +"Nor parting either," sobbed Ellen, whose agitation was +excessive. + +"Nor parting! and though _we_ are parted from them, it is but +for a little; let us watch, and keep our garments clean, and +soon we shall be all together, and have done with tears for +ever. _She_ has done with them now. Did you hear from her +again?" + +"Oh, no! not a word!" + +"That is a hard trial. But, in it all, believe, dear Ellie, +the love that God hath towards us; remember that our dear +Saviour is near us, and feels for us, and is the same at all +times. And don't cry so, Ellie!" + +He kissed her once or twice, and begged her to calm herself. +For it seemed as if Ellen's very heart was flowing away in her +tears; yet they were gentler and softer far than at the +beginning. The conversation had been a great relief. The +silence between her and Alice on the thing always in her mind + a silence neither of them dared to break had grown +painful. The spell was taken off; and though, at first, +Ellen's tears knew no measure, she was easier even then; as +John soothed her, and went on with his kind talk, gradually +leading it away from their first subject to other things, she +grew not only calm, but more peaceful at heart than months had +seen her. She was quite herself again before Alice came home. + +"You have done her good already," exclaimed Alice, as soon as +Ellen was out of the room; "I knew you would; I saw it in +her face as soon as I came in." + +"It is time," said her brother. "She is a dear little thing!" + +The next day, in the middle of the morning, Ellen, to her +great surprise, saw Sharp brought before the door, with the +side-saddle on, and Mr. John carefully looking to the girth, +and shortening the stirrup. + +"Why, Alice," she exclaimed, "what is Mr. John going to do?" + +"I don't know, Ellie, I am sure; he does queer things +sometimes. What makes you ask?" + +Before she could answer, he opened the door. + +"Come, Ellen, go and get ready. Bundle up well, for it is +rather frosty. Alice, has she a pair of gloves that are warm +enough? Lend her yours, and I'll see if I can find some at +Thirlwall." + +Ellen thought she would rather not go; to anybody else she +would have said so. Half a minute she stood still then went +to put on her things. + +"Alice, you will be ready by the time we get back? in half +an hour." + +Ellen had an excellent lesson, and her master took care it +should not be an easy one. She came back, looking as she had +not done all winter. Alice was not quite ready; while waiting +for her, John went to the book-case and took down the first +volume of Rollin's _Ancient History;_ and giving it to Ellen, he +said he would talk with her to-morrow about the first twenty +pages. The consequence was, the hour and a half of their +absence, instead of being moped away, was spent in hard study. +A pair of gloves was bought at Thirlwall; Jenny Hitchcock's +pony was sent for; and, after that, every day, when the +weather would at all do, they took a long ride. By degrees, +reading, and drawing, and all her studies, were added to the +history, till Ellen's time was well filled with business +again. Alice had endeavoured to bring this about before, but +fruitlessly. What she asked of her, Ellen indeed _tried_ to do; +what John told her, _was done_. She grew a different creature. +Appetite came back; the colour sprang again to her cheek; hope + meek and sober as it was re-lighted her eye. In her +eagerness to please and satisfy her teacher, her whole soul +was given to the performance of whatever he wished her to do. +The effect was all that he looked for. + +The second evening after he came, John called Ellen to his +side, saying he had something he wanted to read to her. It was +before candles were brought, but the room was full of light +from the blazing wood fire. Ellen glanced at his book as she +came to the sofa; it was a largish volume, in a black leather +cover, a good deal worn; it did not look at all interesting. + +"What is it?" she asked. + +"It is called," said John, "_The Pilgrim's Progress from this +World to a better_." + +Ellen thought it did not _sound_ at all interesting. She had +never been more mistaken in her life, and that she found +almost as soon as he begun. Her attention was nailed; the +listless, careless mood in which she sat down was changed for +one of rapt delight; she devoured every word that fell from +the reader's lips; indeed they were given their fullest effect +by a very fine voice and singularly fine reading. Whenever +anything might not be quite clear to Ellen, John stopped to +make it so; and with his help, and without it, many a lesson +went home. Next day she looked a long time for the book; it +could not be found; she was forced to wait until evening. +Then, to her great joy, it was brought out again, and John +asked her if she wished to hear some more of it. After that, +every evening while he was at home, they spent an hour with +the "Pilgrim." Alice would leave her work and come to the +sofa, too; and with her head on her brother's shoulder, her +hand in his, and Ellen's face leaning against his other arm, +that was the common way they placed themselves to see and +hear. No words can tell Ellen's enjoyment of those readings. +They made her sometimes laugh and sometimes cry; they had much +to do in carrying on the cure which John's wisdom and kindness +had begun. + +They came to the place where Christian loses his burden at the +cross; and as he stood looking and weeping, three shining ones +came to him. "The first said to him, 'Thy sins be forgiven +thee;' the second stripped him of his rags, and clothed him +with a change of raiment; the third also set a mark on his +forehead." + +John explained what was meant by the rags and the change of +raiment. + +"And the mark in his forehead?" said Ellen. + +"That is the mark of God's children the change wrought in +them by the Holy Spirit the change that makes them different +from others, and different from their old selves." + +"Do all Christians have it?" + +"Certainly. None can be a Christian without it." + +"But how can one tell whether one has it or no?" said Ellen, +very gravely. + +"Carry your heart and life to the Bible, and see how they +agree. The Bible gives a great many signs and descriptions, by +which Christians may know themselves know both what they are +and what they ought to be. If you find your own feelings and +manner of life at one with these Bible words, you may hope +that the Holy Spirit has changed you, and set his mark upon +you." + +"I wish you would tell me of one of those places," said Ellen. + +"The Bible is full of them. 'To them that believe _Christ is +precious_,' there is one. 'If ye love me, _keep my +commandments;_' 'He that saith he abideth in him, ought +himself also _so to walk even as he walked_' 'O how _love I thy +law!_' The Bible is full of them, Ellie; but you have need to +ask for great help when you go to try yourself by them; the +heart is deceitful." + +Ellen looked sober all the rest of the evening, and the next +day she pondered the matter a good deal. + +"I think I am changed," she said to herself, at last. "I +didn't use to like to read the Bible, and now I do very much; + I never liked praying in old times, and now, oh! what should +I do without it! I didn't love Jesus at all, but I am sure I +do now. I don't keep his commandments, but I do _try_ to keep +them; I _must_ be changed a little. Oh! I wish Mamma had known +it before!" + +Weeping with mixed sorrow and thankful joy, Ellen bent her +head upon her little Bible to pray that she might be _more_ +changed; and then, as she often did, raised the cover to look +at the texts in the beloved handwriting. + +"I love them that love me, and they that seek me early shall +find me." + +Ellen's tears were blinding her. "That has come true," she +thought. + +"I will be a God to thee, and to thy seed after thee." + +"That has come true, too!" she said, almost in surprise "and +Mamma believed it would." And then, as by a flash, came back +to her mind the time it was written; she remembered how, when +it was done, her mother's head had sunk upon the open page +she seemed to see again the thin fingers tightly clasped she +had not understood it then she did now. "She was praying for +me," thought Ellen "she was praying for me; she believed +that would come true." + +The book was dashed down, and Ellen fell upon her knees, in a +perfect agony of weeping. + +Even this, when she was calm again, served to steady her mind. +There seemed to be a link of communion between her mother and +her that was wanting before. The promise, written and believed +in by the one, realized and rejoiced in by the other, was a +dear something in common, though one had in the meanwhile +removed to heaven, and the other was still a lingerer on the +earth. Ellen bound the words upon her heart. + +Another time, when they came to the last scene of Christian's +journey, Ellen's tears ran very fast. John asked if he should +pass it over, if it distressed her? She said, "Oh, no, it did +not distress her;" she wanted him to go on, and he went on, +though himself much distressed, and Alice was near as bad as +Ellen. But the next evening, to his surprise, Ellen begged +that before he went on to the second part, he would read that +piece over again. And when he lent her the book, with only the +charge that she should not go further than he had been, she +pored over that scene with untiring pleasure, till she almost +had it by heart. In short, never was a child more comforted +and contented with a book than Ellen was with the _Pilgrim's +Progress_. That was a blessed visit of John's. Alice said he +had come like a sunbeam into the house; she dreaded to think +what would be when he went away. + +She wrote, him, however, when he had been gone a few weeks, +that his will seemed to carry all before it, present or +absent. Ellen went on steadily mending at least she did not +go back any. They were keeping up their rides, also their +studies, most diligently; Ellen was untiring in her efforts to +do whatever he had wished her, and was springing forward, +Alice said, in her improvement. + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + +"This working-day world." + + +The spring had come; and Alice and Ellen were looking forward +to pleasanter rides and walks, after the sun should have got a +little warmth, and the snow should be gone; when one morning, +in the early part of March, Mr. Van Brunt made his appearance. +Miss Fortune was not well, and had sent him to beg that Ellen +would come back to her. He was sorry, he said; he knew Ellen +was in the best place; but her aunt wanted her, and "he +s'posed she'd have to go." He did not know what was the matter +with Miss Fortune; it was a little of one thing and a little +of another; "he s'posed she'd overdid, and it was a wonder, +for he didn't know she _could_ do it. _She_ thought she was as +tough as a piece of shoe-leather, but even that could be wore +out." + +Ellen looked blank. However, she hurriedly set herself to get +her things together; and, with Alice's help, in half an hour +she was ready to go. The parting was hard. They held each +other fast a good while, and kissed each other many times, +without speaking. + +"Good-bye, dear Ellie," whispered Alice at last "I'll come +and see you soon. Remember what John said when he went away." + +Ellen did not trust herself to speak. She pulled herself away +from Alice, and turned to Mr. Van Brunt, saying, by her +manner, that she was ready. He took her bundle, and they went +out of the house together. + +Ellen made a manful effort, all the way down the hill, to +stifle the tears that were choking her. She knew they would +greatly disturb her companion, and she did succeed, though +with great difficulty, in keeping them back. Luckily for her, +he said hardly anything during the whole walk; she could not +have borne to answer a question. It was no fault of Mr. Van +Brunt's that he was so silent he was beating his brains the +whole way to think of something it would do to say, and could +not suit himself. His single remark was, "that it was like to +be a fine spring for the maple, and he guessed they'd make a +heap of sugar." + +When they reached the door, he told her she would find her +aunt upstairs, and himself turned off to the barn. Ellen +stopped a minute upon the threshold to remember the last time +she had crossed it and the _first_ time: how changed +everything now! and the thought came, was _this_ now to be her +home for ever? She had need again to remember John's words. +When bidding her good-bye, he had said, "My little pilgrim, I +hope you will keep the straight road, and win the praise of +the servant who was faithful over a few things." "I will try!" +thought poor Ellen; and then she passed through the kitchen, +and went up to her own room. Here, without stopping to think, +she took off her things, gave one strange look at the old +familiar place, and her trunk in the corner, fell on her knees +for one minute, and then went to her aunt's room. + +"Come in," cried Miss Fortune when Ellen had knocked. "Well, +Ellen, there you are. I am thankful it is you; I was afraid it +might be Mimy Lawson, or Sarah Lowndes, or some of the rest of +the set; I know they'll all come scampering here as soon as +they hear I'm laid up." + +"Are you very sick, Aunt Fortune?" said Ellen. + +"La! no, child I shall be up again to-morrow; but I felt +queer this morning, somehow, and I thought I'd try lying down. +I expect I've caught some cold." + +There was no doubt of this; but this was not all. Besides +catching cold, and doing her best to bring it about, Miss +Fortune had overtasked her strength, and by dint of economy, +housewifery, and _smartness_, had brought on herself the severe +punishment of lying idle and helpless for a much longer time +than she at first reckoned on. + +"What can I do for you, Aunt Fortune?" said Ellen. + +"Oh, nothing as I know," said Miss Fortune "only let me +alone, and don't ask me anything, and keep people out of the +house. Mercy! my head feels as if it would go crazy! Ellen, +look here," said she, raising herself on her elbow "I won't +have anybody come into this house if I lie here till +doomsday, I won't! Now, you mind me. I ain't agoing to have +Mimy Lawson, nor nobody else, poking all round into every hole +and corner, and turning every cheese upside down to see what's +under it. There ain't one of 'em too good for it, and they +shan't have a chance. They'll be streaking here, a dozen of +'em, to help take care of the house; but I don't care what +becomes of the house; I won't have anybody in it. Promise me +you won't let Mr. Van Brunt bring any one here to help; I know +I can trust you to do what I tell you; promise me!" + +Ellen promised, a good deal gratified at her aunt's last +words; and once more asked if she could do anything for her. + +"Oh, I don't know!" said Miss Fortune, flinging herself back +on her pillow; "I don't care what you do, if you only keep +the house clear. There's the clothes in the basket under the +table downstairs you might begin to iron 'em; they're only +rough dry. But don't come asking me about anything; I can't +bear it. Ellen, don't let a soul go into the buttery except +yourself. And, Ellen! I don't care if you make me a little +catnip-tea: the catnip's up in the store-room the furthest +door in the back attic here's the keys. Don't go to fussing +with anything else there." + +Ellen thought the prospect before her rather doleful when she +reached the kitchen. It was in order, to be sure, and clean; +but it looked as if the mistress was away. The fire had gone +out, the room was cold; even so little a matter as catnip-tea +seemed a thing far off and hard to come by. While she stood +looking at the great logs in the fireplace, which she could +hardly move, and thinking it was rather a dismal state of +things, in came Mr. Van Brunt with his good-natured face, and +wanted to know if he could do anything for her. The very room +seemed more comfortable as soon as his big figure was in it. +He set about kindling the fire forthwith, while Ellen went up +to the store-room. A well-filled store-room! Among other +things, there hung at least a dozen bunches of dried herbs +from one of the rafters. Ellen thought she knew catnip, but +after smelling of two or three, she became utterly puzzled, +and was fain to carry a leaf of several kinds down to Mr. Van +Brunt to find out which was which. When she came down again, +she found he had hung on the kettle for her, and swept up the +hearth; so Ellen, wisely thinking it best to keep busy, put +the ironing blanket on the table, and folded the clothes, and +set the irons to the fire. By this time the kettle boiled. How +to make catnip-tea Ellen did not exactly know, but supposed it +must follow the same rules as black tea, in the making of +which she felt herself very much at home. So she put a pinch +or two of catnip leaves into the pot, poured a little water on +them, and left it to draw. Meanwhile came in kind Mr. Van +Brunt with an armful or two of small short sticks for the +fire, which Ellen could manage. + +"I wish I could stay here and take care of you all the while," +said he; "but I'll be round. If you want anything, you must +come to the door and holler." + +Ellen began to thank him. + +"Just don't say anything about that," said he, moving his +hands as if he were shaking her thanks out of them; "I'd back +all the wood you could burn every day for the pleasure of +having you hum again, if I didn't know you was better where +you was; but I can't help that. Now, who am I going to get to +stay with you? Who would you like to have." + +"Nobody, if you please, Mr. Van Brunt," said Ellen; "Aunt +Fortune don't wish it, and I had rather not, indeed." + +He stood up and looked at her in amazement. + +"Why, you don't mean to say," said he, "that you are thinking, +or she is thinking, you can get along here without help?" + +"I'll get along somehow," said Ellen. "Never mind, please let +me, Mr. Van Brunt; it would worry Aunt Fortune very much to +have anybody; don't say anything about it." + +"Worry her!" said he; and he muttered something Ellen did not +quite understand, about "bringing the old woman to reason." + +However, he went off for the present; and Ellen filled up her +teapot and carried it upstairs. Her old grandmother was awake; +before, when Ellen was in the room, she had been napping; now +she showed the greatest delight at seeing her fondled her, +kissed her, cried over her, and finally insisted on getting up +directly and going downstairs. Ellen received and returned her +caresses with great tenderness, and then began to help her +rise and dress. + +"Yes, do," said Miss Fortune; "I shall have a little better +chance of sleeping. My stars! Ellen, what do you call this?" + +"Isn't it catnip?" said Ellen, alarmed. + +"Catnip! it tastes of nothing but the tea-kettle. It's as weak +as dishwater. Take it down and make some more. How much did +you put in? you want a good double-handful, stalks and all; +make it strong. I can't drink such stuff as that. I think if I +could get into a sweat I should be better." + +Ellen went down, established her grandmother in her old +corner, and made some more tea. Then her irons being hot, she +began to iron; doing double duty at the same time, for Mrs. +Montgomery had one of her talking fits on, and it was +necessary to hear and answer a great many things. Presently +the first visitor appeared in the shape of Nancy. + +"Well, Ellen!" said she, "so Miss Fortune is really sick for +once, and you are keeping house. Ain't you grand?" + +"I don't feel very grand," said Ellen. "I don't know what is +the matter with these clothes; I _cannot_ make 'em look smooth." + +"Irons ain't hot," said Nancy. + +"Yes they are too hot; I've scorched a towel already." + +"My goodness, Ellen! I guess you have. If Miss Fortune was +down, you'd get it. Why, they're bone dry!" said Nancy, +plunging her hand into the basket: "you haven't sprinkled 'em, +have you?" + +"To be sure," said Ellen, with an awakened face, "I forgot +it!" + +"Here, get out of the way, _I'll_ do it for you," said Nancy, +rolling up her sleeves, and pushing Ellen from the table; "you +just get me a bowl of water, will you? and we'll have 'em done +in no time. Who's a-coming to help you?" + +"Nobody." + +"Nobody! you poor chicken; do you think you're a-going to do +all the work of the house yourself?" + +"No," said Ellen, "but I can do a good deal, and the rest will +have to go." + +"You ain't going to do no such thing; I'll stay myself." + +"No, you can't, Nancy," said Ellen, quietly. + +"I guess I will, if I've a mind to. I should like to know how +you'd help it: Miss Fortune's a-bed." + +"I could help it, though," said Ellen; "but I am sure you +won't, when I ask you not." + +"I'll do anything you please," said Nancy, "if you'll get Miss +Fortune to let me stay. Come do, Ellen! It will be splendid! +and I'll help you finely, and I won't bother you neither. +Come, go ask her; if you don't, I will." + +"I can't, Nancy; she don't want anybody; and it worries her to +talk to her. I can't go and ask her." + +Nancy impatiently flung down the cloth she was sprinkling, and +ran up stairs. In a few minutes she came down with a +triumphant face, and bade Ellen go up to her aunt. + +"Ellen," said Miss Fortune, "if I let Nancy stay will you take +care of the keys, and keep her out of the buttery?" + +"I'll try to, Ma'am, as well as I can." + +"I'd as lief have her as anybody," said Miss Fortune, "if +she'd behave. She was with me a little in the winter. She is +smart, and knows the ways. If I was sure she would behave +herself but I am afraid she will go rampaging about the +house like a wild cat." + +"I think I could prevent that," said Ellen; who, to say truth, +was willing to have anybody come to share what she felt would +be a very great burden. "She knows I could tell Mr. Van Brunt +if she didn't do right, and she would be afraid of that." + +"Well," said Miss Fortune, disconsolately, "let her stay, +then. O, dear, to lie here! but tell her if she don't do +just what you tell her, I'll have Mr. Van Brunt turn her out +by the ears. And don't let her come near me, for she drives me +mad. And, Ellen, put the keys in your pocket. Have you got a +pocket in that dress?" + +"Yes, Ma'am." + +"Put 'em in there, and don't take 'em out. Now, go." + +Nancy agreed to the conditions with great glee; and the little +housekeeper felt her mind a good deal easier; for though Nancy +herself was somewhat of a charge, she was strong, and willing, +and ready, and, if she liked anybody, liked Ellen. Mr. Van +Brunt privately asked Ellen if she chose to have Nancy stay; +and told her, if she gave her any trouble, to let him know, +and he would make short work with her. The young lady herself +also had a hint on the subject. + +"I'll tell you what," said Nancy, when this business was +settled, "we'll let the men go off to Mrs. Van Brunt's to +meals; we'll have enough to do without 'em. That's how Miss +Fortune has fixed herself she would have Sam and Johnny in to +board; they never used to, you know, afore this winter." + +"The men may go," said Ellen, "but I had a great deal rather +Mr. Van Brunt would stay than not if we can only manage to +cook things for him; we should have to do it, at any rate, for +ourselves, and for grandma." + +"Well _I_ ain't as fond of him as all that," said Nancy, "but +it'll have to be as you like, I suppose. We'll feed him +somehow." + +Mr. Van Brunt came in to ask if they had anything in the house +for supper. Ellen told him "plenty," and would have him come +in just as usual. There was nothing to do but to make tea; +cold meat and bread and butter and cheese were all in the +buttery; so that evening went off very quietly. + +When she came down the next morning, the fire was burning +nicely, and the kettle on and singing. Not Nancy's work; Mr. +Van Brunt had slept in the kitchen; whether on the table, the +floor, or the chairs, was best known to himself; and before +going to his work, had left everything he could think of ready +done to her hand; wood for the fire, pails of water brought +from the spout, and some matters in the lower kitchen got out +of the way. Ellen stood warming herself at the blaze, when it +suddenly darted into her head that it was milking time. In +another minute she had thrown open the door and was running +across the chip-yard to the barn. There, in the old place, +were all her old friends, both four-legged and two-legged; and +with great delight she found Dolly had a fine calf, and +Streaky another superb one, brindled just like herself. Ellen +longed to get near enough to touch their little innocent +heads, but it was impossible; and recollecting the business on +her hands, she too danced away. + +"Whew!" said Nancy, when Ellen told her of the new inmates of +the barn-yard; "there'll be work to do! Get your milk-pans +ready, Ellen; in a couple of weeks we'll be making butter." + +"Aunt Fortune will be well by that time, I hope," said Ellen. + +"She won't, then, so you may just make up your mind to it. Dr. +Gibson was to see her yesterday forenoon, and he stopped at +Miss Lowndes' on his way back; and he said it was a chance if +she got up again in a month and more. So, that's what it is, +you see." + +"A month, and more." It was all that. Miss Fortune was not +dangerously ill; but part of the time in a low nervous fever, +part of the time encumbered with other ailments, she lay from +week to week, bearing her confinement very ill, and making it +as disagreeable and burdensome as possible for Ellen to attend +upon her. Those were weeks of trial. Ellen's patience and +principle and temper were all put to the proof. She had no +love, in the first place, for household work, and now her +whole time was filled up with it. Studies could not be thought +of. Reading was only to be had by mere snatches. Walks and +rides were at an end. Often, when already very tired, she had +to run up and down stairs for her aunt, or stand and bathe her +face and hands with vinegar, or read the paper to her, when +Miss Fortune declared she was so nervous she should fly out of +her skin if she didn't hear something besides the wind. And +very often, when she was not wanted upstairs, her old +grandmother would beg her to come and read to _her_ perhaps at +the very moment when Ellen was busiest. Ellen did her best. +Miss Fortune never could be put off; her old mother sometimes +could, with a kiss and a promise but not always; and then, +rather than she should fret, Ellen would leave everything, and +give half an hour to soothing and satisfying her. She loved to +do this at other times; now it was sometimes burdensome. Nancy +could not help her at all in these matters, for neither Miss +Fortune nor the old lady would let her come near them. Besides +all this, there was a measure of care constantly upon Ellen's +mind; she felt charged with the welfare of all about the +house; and under the effort to meet the charge, joined to the +unceasing bodily exertion, she grew thin and pale. She was +tired with Nancy's talk; she longed to be reading and studying +again; she longed oh! how she longed! for Alice's and +John's company again; and it was no wonder if she sometimes +cast very sad, longing looks further back still. Now and then +an old fit of weeping would come. But Ellen remembered John's +words; and often in the midst of her work, stopping short with +a sort of pang of sorrow and weariness, and the difficulty of +doing right, she would press her hands together and say to +herself, "I will try to be a good pilgrim!" Her morning hour +of prayer was very precious now; and her Bible grew more and +more dear. Little Ellen found its words a mighty refreshment; +and often when reading it she loved to recall what Alice had +said at this and the other place, and John, and Mr. Marshman, +and before them her mother. The passages about heaven, which +she well remembered reading to her one particular morning, +became great favourites; they were joined with her mother in +Ellen's thoughts; and she used to go over and over them till +she nearly knew them by heart. + +"What _do_ you keep reading that for, the whole time?" said +Nancy, one day. + +"Because I like to," said Ellen. + +"Well, if you do, you're the first one ever I saw that did." + +"Oh, Nancy!" said Ellen, "your grandma?" + +"Well, she does, I believe," said Nancy; "for she's always at +it; but all the rest of the folks that ever I saw are happy to +get it out of their hands, _I_ know. They think they must read a +little, and so they do, and they are too glad if something +happens to break 'em off. You needn't tell _me_ I've seen +'em." + +"I wish _you_ loved it, Nancy," said Ellen. + +"Well, what do you love it for? Come, let's hear; maybe you'll +convert me." + +"I love it for a great many reasons," said Ellen, who had some +difficulty in speaking of what she felt Nancy could not +understand. + +"Well I ain't any wiser yet." + +"I like to read it because I want to go to heaven, and it +tells me how." + +"But what's the use?" said Nancy "you ain't going to die yet + you are too young you've time enough." + +"Oh, Nancy! little John Dolan, and Eleanor Parsons, and Mary +Huff all younger than you and I; how can you say so?" + +"Well," said Nancy "at any rate, that ain't reading it +because you love it it's because you must, like other +folks." + +"That's only one of my reasons," said Ellen, hesitating, and +speaking gravely; "I like to read about the Saviour, and +what he has done for me, and what a friend he will be to me, +and how he forgives me. I had rather have the Bible, Nancy, +than all the other books in the world." + +"That ain't saying much," said Nancy "but how come you to be +so sure you are forgiven?" + +"Because the Bible says, 'He that believeth on him shall not +be ashamed,' and I believe in him and that he will not cast +out any one that comes to him, and I have come to him and +that he loves those that love him, and I love him. If it did +not speak so very plainly, I should be afraid, but it makes me +happy to read such verses as these. I wish you knew, Nancy, +how happy it makes me." + +This profession of faith was not spoken without starting +tears. Nancy made no reply. + +As Miss Fortune had foretold, plenty of people came to the +house with proffers of service. Nancy's being there made it +easy for Ellen to get rid of them all. Many were the marvels +that Miss Fortune should trust her house to "two girls like +that," and many the guesses that she would rue it when she got +up again. People were wrong. Things went on very steadily, and +in an orderly manner; and Nancy kept the peace as she would +have done in few houses. Bold and insolent as she sometimes +was to others, she regarded Ellen with a mixed notion of +respect and protection, which led her at once to shun doing +anything that would grieve her, and to thrust her aside from +every heavy or difficult job, taking the brunt herself. Nancy +might well do this, for she was at least twice as strong as +Ellen; but she would not have done it for everybody. + +There were visits of kindness as well as visits of +officiousness. Alice and Mrs. Van Brunt and Margery, one or +the other every day. Margery would come in and mix up a batch +of bread; Alice would bring a bowl of butter or a basket of +cake; and Mrs. Van Brunt sent whole dinners. Mr. Van Brunt was +there always at night, and about the place as much as possible +during the day; when obliged to be absent, he stationed Sam +Larkens to guard the house, also to bring wood and water, and +do whatever he was bid. All the help, however, that was given +from abroad could not make Ellen's life an easy one; Mr. Van +Brunt's wishes that Miss Fortune would get up again began to +come very often. The history of one day may serve for the +history of all those weeks. + +It was in the beginning of April. Ellen came downstairs early, +but come when she would, she found the fire made and the +kettle on. Ellen felt a little as if she had not quite slept +off the remembrance of yesterday's fatigue; however, that was +no matter, she set to work. She swept up the kitchen, got her +milk-strainer and pans ready upon the buttery shelf, and began +to set the table. By the time this was half done, in came Sam +Larkens with two great pails of milk, and Johnny Low followed +with another. They were much too heavy for Ellen to lift, but +true to her charge, she let no one come into the buttery but +herself; she brought the pans to the door, where Sam filled +them for her, and as each was done she set it in its place on +the shelf. This took some time, for there were eight of them. +She had scarce wiped up the spilt milk and finished setting +the table, when Mr. Van Brunt came in. + +"Good morning!" said he. "How d'ye do to-day?" + +"Very well, Mr. Van Brunt." + +"I wish you'd look a little redder in the face. Don't you be +too busy. Where's Nancy?" + +"Oh, she's busy, out with the clothes." + +"Same as ever upstairs? What are you going to do for +breakfast, Ellen?" + +"I don't know, Mr. Van Brunt; there isn't anything cooked in +the house; we have eaten everything up." + +"Cleaned out, eh? Bread and all?" + +"Oh, no, not bread; there's plenty of that, but there's +nothing else." + +"Well never mind; you bring me a ham and a dozen of eggs, +and I'll make you a first-rate breakfast." + +Ellen laughed, for this was not the first time Mr. Van Brunt +had acted as cook for the family. While she got what he had +asked for, and bared a place on the table for his operations, +he went to the spout and washed his hands. + +"Now, a sharp knife, Ellen, and the frying-pan and a dish +and that's all I want of you." + +Ellen brought them, and while he was busy with the ham, she +made the coffee, and set it by the side of the fire to boil; +got the cream and butter, and set the bread on the table; and +then set herself down to rest, and amuse herself with Mr. Van +Brunt's cookery. He was no mean hand: his slices of ham were +very artist-like, and frying away in the most unexceptionable +manner. Ellen watched him, and laughed at him, till the ham +was taken out and all the eggs broke in; then, after seeing +that the coffee was right, she went upstairs to dress her +grandmother always the last thing before breakfast. + +"Who's frying ham and eggs downstairs?" inquired Miss Fortune. + +"Mr. Van Brunt," said Ellen. + +This answer was unexpected. Miss Fortune tossed her head over +in a dissatisfied kind of way, and told Ellen to "tell him to +be careful." + +"Of what?" thought Ellen; and wisely concluded with herself +not to deliver the message, very certain she should laugh if +she did, and she had running in her head an indistinct notion +of the command, "Honour thy father and thy mother." + +Breakfast was ready, but no one there when she got down- +stairs. She placed her grandmother at table, and called Nancy, +who all this time had been getting the clothes out of the +rinsing water and hanging them out on the line to dry; said +clothes having been washed the day before by Miss Sarah +Lowndes, who came there for the purpose. Ellen poured out the +coffee, and then in came Mr. Van Brunt with a head of early +lettuce, which he had pulled in the garden and washed at the +spout. Ellen had to jump up again to get the salt and pepper +and vinegar; but she always jumped willingly for Mr. Van +Brunt. The meals were pleasanter during those weeks than in +all the time Ellen had been in Thirlwall before; or she +thought so. That sharp eye at the head of the table was +pleasantly missed. They with one accord sat longer at meals; +more talking and laughing went on; nobody felt afraid of being +snapped up. Mr. Van Brunt praised Ellen's coffee (he had +taught her how to make it), and she praised his ham and eggs. +Old Mrs. Montgomery praised everything, and seemed to be in +particular comfort; talked as much as she had a mind, and was +respectfully attended to. Nancy was in high feather; and the +clatter of knives and forks and tea-cups went on very +pleasantly. But at last, chairs were pushed from the table, +and work began again. + +Nancy went back to her tubs. Ellen supplied her grandmother +with her knitting, and filled her snuff-box; cleared the +table, and put up the dishes ready for washing. Then she went +into the buttery to skim the cream. This was a part of the +work she liked. It was heavy lifting the pans of milk to the +skimming shelf before the window, but as Ellen drew her spoon +round the edge of the cream, she liked to see it wrinkle up in +thick, yellow, leathery folds, showing how deep and rich it +was it looked half butter already. She knew how to take it +off now, very nicely. The cream was set by in a vessel for +future churning, and the milk, as each pan was skimmed, was +poured down the wooden trough, at the left of the window, +through which it went into a great hogshead at the lower +kitchen door. + +This done, Ellen went up stairs to her aunt. Dr. Gibson always +came early, and she and her room must be put in apple-pie +order first. It was a long, wearisome job. Ellen brought the +basin for her, to wash her face and hands; then combed her +hair, and put on her clean cap. That was always the first +thing. The next was to make the bed; and for this Miss +Fortune, weak or strong, wrapped herself up and tumbled out +upon the floor. When she was comfortably placed again, Ellen +had to go through a laborious dusting of the room and all the +things in it, even taking a dustpan and brush to the floor, if +any speck of dust or crumbs could be seen there. Every rung of +every chair must be gone over, though never so clean; every +article put up or put out of the way; Miss Fortune made the +most of the little province of housekeeping that was left her; +and a fluttering tape, escaping through the crack of the door, +would have put her whole spirit topsy-turvy. When all was to +her mind, and not before, she would have her breakfast, only +gruel and biscuit, or toast and tea, or some such trifle, but +Ellen must prepare it, and bring it up stairs, and wait till +it was eaten. And very particularly it must be prepared, and +very faultlessly it must be served, or, with an impatient +expression of disgust, Miss Fortune would send it down again. +On the whole, Ellen always thought herself happy when this +part of her day was well over. + +When she got down this morning she found the kitchen in nice +order, and Nancy standing by the fire in a little sort of +pause, having just done the breakfast dishes. + +"Well!" said Nancy "what are you going to do now?" + +"Put away these dishes, and then churn," said Ellen. + +"My goodness! so you are. What's going to be for dinner, +Ellen?" + +"That's more than I know," said Ellen, laughing. "We have +eaten up Mrs. Van Brunt's pie, and washed the dish there's +nothing but some cold potatoes." + +"_That_ won't do," said Nancy. "I tell you what, Ellen we'll +just boil pot for to-day; somebody else will send us something +by to-morrow most likely." + +"I don't know what you mean by 'boil pot,' " said Ellen. + +"Oh, you don't know everything yet, by half. _I_ know I'll fix +it. You just give me the things, Miss Housekeeper, that's all +you've got to do; I want a piece of pork and a piece of beef, +and all the vegetables you've got." + +"All?" said Ellen. + +"Every soul on 'em. Don't be scared, Ellen; you shall see what +I can do in the way of cookery if you don't like it you +needn't eat it. What have you got in the cellar?" + +"Come and see, and take what you want, Nancy; there is plenty +of potatoes and carrots and onions, and beets, I believe the +turnips are all gone." + +"Parsnips out in the yard, ain't there?" + +"Yes, but you'll have to do with a piece of pork, Nancy; I +don't know anything about beef." + +While Nancy went round the cellar, gathering in her apron the +various roots she wanted, Ellen uncovered the pork barrel, +and, after looking a minute at the dark pickle she never loved +to plunge into, bravely bared her arm, and fished up a piece +of pork. + +"Now, Nancy, just help me with this churn out of the cellar, +will you? and then you may go." + +"My goodness! it is heavy," said Nancy. "You'll have a time of +it, Ellen; but I can't help you." + +She went off to the garden for parsnips, and Ellen quietly put +in the dasher and the cover, and began to churn. It was +tiresome work. The churn was pretty full, as Nancy had said; +the cream was rich and cold, and at the end of half an hour +grew very stiff. It splattered and sputtered up on Ellen's +face and hands, and frock and apron, and over the floor; legs +and arms were both weary; but still that pitiless dasher must +go up and down, hard as it might be to force it either way +she must not stop. In this state of matters she heard a pair +of thick shoes come clumping down the stairs, and beheld Mr. +Van Brunt. + +"Here you are!" said he. "Churning! Been long at it?" + +"A good while," said Ellen, with a sigh. + +"Coming?" + +"I don't know when." + +Mr. Van Brunt stepped to the door, and shouted for Sam +Larkens. He was ordered to take the churn and bring the +butter; and Ellen, very glad of a rest, went out to amuse +herself with feeding the chickens, and then up stairs to see +what Nancy was doing. + +"Butter come?" said Nancy. + +"No, Sam has taken it. How are you getting on? Oh, I am +tired!" + +"I'm getting on first-rate; I've got all the things in." + +"In what?" + +"Why, in the pot! in a pot of water, boiling away as fast as +they can; we'll have dinner directly. Hurra! who comes there?" + +She jumped to the door. It was Thomas, bringing Margery's +respects, and a custard-pie for Ellen. + +"I declare," said Nancy, "it's a good thing to have friends, +ain't it? I'll try and get some. Hollo? what's wanting? Mr. +Van Brunt's calling you, Ellen." + +Ellen ran down. + +"The butter's come," said he. "Now, do you know what to do +with it?" + +"Oh, yes," said Ellen, smiling; "Margery showed me nicely." + +He brought her a pail of water from the spout, and stood by +with a pleased kind of look, while she carefully lifted the +cover and rinsed down the little bits of butter which stuck to +it and the dasher; took out the butter with her ladle into a +large wooden bowl, washed it, and finally salted it. + +"Don't take too much pains," said he; "the less of the hand it +gets, the better. That will do very well." + +"Now, are you ready?" said Nancy, coming down stairs, "cause +dinner is. My goodness! ain't that a fine lot of butter? +there's four pounds, ain't there?" + +"Five," said Mr. Van Brunt. + +"And as sweet as it can be," said Ellen. "Beautiful, isn't it? +Yes, I'm ready as soon as I set this in the cellar and cover +it up." + +Nancy's dish the pork, potatoes, carrots, beets, and +cabbage, all boiled in the same pot together was found very +much to everybody's taste, except Ellen's. She made her dinner +off potatoes and bread, the former of which she declared, +laughing, were very porky and cabbagy; her meal would have +been an extremely light one, had it not been for the custard- +pie. + +After dinner, new labours began. Nancy had forgotten to hang +on a pot of water for the dishes; so, after putting away the +eatables in the buttery, while the water was heating, Ellen +warmed some gruel, and carried it, with a plate of biscuit, +upstairs to her aunt. But Miss Fortune said she was tired of +gruel, and couldn't eat it; she must have some milk porridge; +and she gave Ellen very particular directions how to make it. +Ellen sighed only once as she went down with her despised dish +of gruel, and set about doing her best to fulfil her aunt's +wishes. The first dish of milk she burnt; another sigh and +another trial; better care this time had better success, and +Ellen had the satisfaction to see her aunt perfectly suited +with her dinner. + +When she came down with the empty bowl, Nancy had a pile of +dishes ready washed, and Ellen took the towel to dry them. +Mrs. Montgomery, who had been in an uncommonly quiet fit all +day, now laid down her knitting, and asked if Ellen would not +come and read to her. + +"Presently, Grandma, as soon as I have done here." + +"I know somebody that's tired," said Nancy. "I tell you what, +Ellen, you had better take to liking pork; you can't work on +potatoes. I ain't tired a bit. There's somebody coming to the +door again! Do run and open it, will you? my hands are wet. I +wonder why folks can't come in without giving so much +trouble." + +It was Thomas again, with a package for Ellen, which had just +come, he said, and Miss Alice thought she would like to have +it directly. Ellen thanked her, and thanked him, with a face +from which all signs of weariness had fled away. The parcel +was sealed up, and directed in a hand she was pretty sure she +knew. Her fingers burned to break the seal; but she would not +open it there, neither leave her work unfinished; she went on +wiping the dishes, with trembling hands and a beating heart. + +"What's that?" said Nancy; "what did Thomas Grimes want? +what have you got there?" + +"I don't know," said Ellen, smiling; "something good, I +guess." + +"Something good? is it something to eat?" + +"No," said Ellen "I didn't mean anything to eat when I said +something good; I don't think those are the best things." + +To Ellen's delight, she saw that her grandmother had forgotten +about the reading, and was quietly taking short naps, with her +head against the chimney. So she put away the last dish, and +then seized her package and flew up-stairs. She was sure it +had come from Doncaster; she was right. It was a beautiful +copy of the _Pilgrim's Progress_, on the first leaf written, +"To my little sister Ellen Montgomery, from J. H.;" and within +the cover lay a letter. This letter Ellen read in the course +of the next six days, at least twice as many times; and never +without crying over it. + +"Alice has told me," said John, "about your new troubles. +There is said to be a time 'when the clouds return after the +rain.' I am sorry, my little sister, this time should come to +you so early. I often think of you, and wish I could be near +you. Still, dear Ellie, the good Husbandman knows what his +plants want; do you believe that, and can you trust him? They +would have nothing but sunshine if that was good for them. He +knows it is not; so there come clouds and rains, and 'stormy +wind fulfilling his will.' And what is it all for? 'Herein +is my Father glorified, _that ye bear much fruit;_' do not +disappoint his purpose, Ellie. We shall have sunshine enough +by-and-by but I know it is hard for so young a one as my +little sister to look much forward; so do not look forward, +Ellie; look up! look off unto Jesus from all your duties, +troubles, and wants; he will help you in them all. The more +you look up to him, the more he will look down to you; and he +especially said, 'Suffer _little children_ to come unto me;' you +see you are particularly invited." + +Ellen was a long time upstairs, and when she came down, it was +with red eyes. + +Mrs. Montgomery was now awake, and asked for the reading +again; and for three-quarters of an hour Ellen and she were +quietly busy with the Bible. Nancy, meanwhile, was downstairs +washing the dairy things. When her grandmother released her, +Ellen had to go up to wait upon her aunt; after which, she +went into the buttery, and skimmed the cream, and got the pans +ready for the evening milk. By this time it was five o'clock, +and Nancy came in with the basket of dry clothes; at which +Ellen looked with the sorrowful consciousness that they must +be sprinkled and folded by-and-by, and ironed to-morrow. It +happened, however, that Jane Huff came in just then, with a +quantity of hot short-cake for tea; and seeing the basket, she +very kindly took the business of sprinkling and folding upon +herself. This gave Ellen spirits to carry out a plan she had +long had, to delight the whole family with some eggs, +scrambled in Margery's fashion; after the milk was strained +and put away, she went about it, while Nancy set the table. A +nice bed of coals was prepared; the spider set over them; the +eggs broken in, peppered and salted; and she began carefully +to stir them as she had seen Margery do. But instead of acting +right, the eggs maliciously stuck fast to the spider and +burned. Ellen was confounded. + +"How much butter did you put in?" said Mr. Van Brunt, who had +come in, and stood looking on. + +"Butter!" said Ellen, looking up; "oh, I forgot all about it +I ought to have put that in, oughtn't I? I'm sorry!" + +"Never mind," said Mr. Van Brunt " 'tain't worth your being +sorry about. Here Nancy clean us off this spider, and we'll +try again." + +At this moment Miss Fortune was heard screaming; Ellen ran up. + +"What did she want?" said Mr. Van Brunt, when she came down +again. + +"She wanted to know what was burning." + +"Did you tell her?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, what did she say?" + +"Said I mustn't use any more eggs without asking her." + +"That ain't fair play," said Mr. Van Brunt; "you and I are the +head of the house now, I take it. You just use as many on 'em +as you've a mind; and all you spile, I'll fetch you again from +hum. That's you, Nancy! Now, Ellen, here's the spider; try it +again; let's have plenty of butter in this time, and plenty of +eggs, too." + +This time the eggs were scrambled to a nicety, and the supper +met with great favour from all parties. + +Ellen's day was done when the dishes were. The whole family +went early to bed. She was weary but she could rest well. +She had made her old grandmother comfortable; she had kept the +peace with Nancy; she had pleased Mr. Van Brunt; she had +faithfully served her aunt. Her sleep was uncrossed by a +dream, untroubled by a single jar of conscience. And her +awaking to another day of labour, though by no means joyful, +was yet not unhopeful or unhappy. + +She had a hard trial a day or two after. It was in the end of +the afternoon; she had her big apron on, and was in the +buttery skimming the milk, when she heard the kitchen door +open, and footsteps enter the kitchen. Out went little Ellen +to see who it was, and there stood Alice and old Mr. Marshman! +He was going to take Alice home with him the next morning, and +wanted Ellen to go too; and they had come to ask her. Ellen +knew it was impossible that is, that it would not be right, +and she said so; and in spite of Alice's wistful look, and Mr. +Marshman's insisting, she stood her ground. Not without some +difficulty, and some glistening of the eyes. They had to give +it up. Mr. Marshman then wanted to know what she meant by +swallowing herself up in an apron in that sort of way? so +Ellen had him into the buttery, and showed him what she had +been about. He would see her skim several pans, and laughed at +her prodigiously; though there was a queer look about his +eyes, too, all the time. And when he went away, he held her in +his arms, and kissed her again and again; and said that "some +of these days he would take her away from her aunt, and she +should have her no more." Ellen stood and looked after them +till they were out of sight, and then went upstairs and had a +good cry. + +The butter-making soon became quite too much for Ellen to +manage; so Jane Huff and Jenny Hitchcock were engaged to come +by turns, and do the heavy part of it; all within the buttery +being still left to Ellen, for Miss Fortune would have no one +else go there. It was a great help to have them take even so +much off her hands; and they often did some other little odd +jobs for her. The milk, however, seemed to increase as fast as +the days grew longer, and Ellen could not find that she was +much less busy. The days were growing pleasant, too; soft airs +began to come; the grass was of a beautiful green; the buds on +the branches began to swell, and on some trees to put out. +When Ellen had a moment of time she used to run across the +chip-yard to the barn, or round the garden, or down to the +brook, and drink in the sweet air, and the lovely sights, +which never had seemed quite so lovely before. If once in a +while she could get half an hour before tea, she used to take +her book and sit down on the threshold of the front door, or +on the big log under the apple-tree, in the chip-yard. In +those minutes the reading was doubly sweet; or else, the +loveliness of earth and sky was such, that Ellen could not +take her eyes from them, till she saw Sam or Johnny coming out +of the cow-house door with the pails of milk, or heard their +heavy tramp over the chips then she had to jump and run. +Those were sweet half-hours. Ellen did not at first know how +much reason she had to be delighted with her _Pilgrim's +Progress:_ she saw, to be sure, that it was a fine copy, well- +bound, with beautiful cuts. But when she came to look further, +she found all through the book, on the margin, or at the +bottom of the leaves, in John's beautiful hand-writing, a +great many notes; simple, short, plain, exactly what was +needed to open the whole book to her, and make it of the +greatest possible use and pleasure. Many things she remembered +hearing from his lips when they were reading it together; +there was a large part of the book where all was new; the part +he had not had time to finish. How Ellen loved the book and +the giver, when she found these beautiful notes, it is +impossible to tell. She counted it her greatest treasure, next +to her little red Bible. + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + +The Brownie. + + +In the course of time Miss Fortune showed signs of mending; +and at last, towards the latter end of April, she was able to +come downstairs. All parties hailed this event, for different +reasons; even Nancy was growing tired of her regular life, and +willing to have a change. Ellen's joy was, however, soon +diminished by the terrible rummaging which took place. Miss +Fortune's hands were yet obliged to lie still, but her eyes +did double duty; _they_ were never known to be idle in the best +of times, and it seemed to Ellen now as if they were taking +amends for all their weeks of forced rest. Oh, those eyes! +Dust was found where Ellen never dreamed of looking for any +things were said to be dreadfully "in the way" where she had +never found it out disorder and dirt were groaned over, +where Ellen did not know the fact, or was utterly ignorant how +to help it waste was suspected where none had been, and +carelessness charged where rather praise was due. Impatient to +have things to her mind, and as yet unable to do anything +herself, Miss Fortune kept Nancy and Ellen running, till both +wished her back in bed; and even Mr. Van Brunt grumbled, that +"to pay Ellen for having grown white and poor, her aunt was +going to work the little flesh she had left off her bones." It +was rather hard to bear, just when she was looking for ease, +too her patience and temper were more tried than in all +those weeks before. But if there was small pleasure in +pleasing her aunt, Ellen did earnestly wish to please God: she +struggled against ill-temper, prayed against it, and, though +she often blamed herself in secret, she did so go through that +week as to call forth Mr. Van Brunt's admiration, and even to +stir a little the conscience of her aunt. Mr. Van Brunt +comforted her with the remark, that "it is darkest just before +day;" and so it proved. Before the week was at an end, Miss +Fortune began, as she expressed it, to "take hold:" Jenny +Hitchcock and Jane Huff were excused from any more butter- +making; Nancy was sent away; Ellen's labours were much +lightened; and the house was itself again. + +The third of May came. For the first time in near two months, +Ellen found in the afternoon she could be spared awhile; there +was no need to think twice what she would do with her leisure. +Perhaps Margery could tell her something of Alice! Hastily and +joyfully she exchanged her working frock for a merino, put on +nice shoes and stockings, and ruffle again, and taking her +bonnet and gloves to put on out of doors, away she ran. Who +can tell how pleasant it seemed, after so many weeks, to be +able to walk abroad again, and to walk to the mountain! Ellen +snuffed the sweet air, skipped on the green sward, picked +nosegays of grass and dandelions, and at last, unable to +contain herself, set off to run. Fatigue soon brought this to +a stop; then she walked more leisurely on, enjoying. It was a +lovely spring day. Ellen's eyes were gladdened by it; she felt +thankful in her heart that God had made everything so +beautiful; she thought it was pleasant to think _He_ had made +them, pleasant to see in them everywhere so much of the +wisdom, and power, and goodness, of Him she looked up to with +joy as her best friend. She felt quietly happy, and sure He +would take care of her. Then a thought of Alice came into her +head; she set off to run again, and kept it up this time till +she got to the old house and ran round the corner. She stopped +at the shed door, and went through into the lower kitchen. + +"Why, Miss Ellen, dear!" exclaimed Margery "if that isn't +you! Aren't you come in the _very_ nick of time! How _do_ you do? +I am very glad to see you uncommon glad, to be sure. What +witch told you to come here just now? Run in; run into the +parlour, and see what you'll find there." + +"Has Alice come back?" cried Ellen. But Margery only laughed +and said "Run in!" + +Up the steps, through the kitchen, and across the hall, Ellen +ran burst open the parlour door and was in Alice's arms. +There were others in the room, but Ellen did not seem to know +it, clinging to her, and holding her in a fast, glad embrace, +till Alice bade her look up, and attend to somebody else. And +then she was seized round the neck by little Ellen Chauncey! +and then came her mother, and then Miss Sophia. The two +children were overjoyed to see each other, while their joy was +touching to see, from the shade of sorrow in the one, and of +sympathy in the other. Ellen was scarcely less glad to see +kind Mrs. Chauncey; Miss Sophia's greeting, too, was very +affectionate. But Ellen returned to Alice, and rested herself +in her lap, with one arm round her neck, the other hand being +in little Ellen's grasp. + +"And now you are happy, I suppose?" said Miss Sophia, when +they were thus placed. + +"Very," said Ellen, smiling. + +"Ah, but you'll be happier by-and-by," said Ellen Chauncey. + +"Hush, Ellen!" said Miss Sophia; "what curious things +children are! You didn't expect to find us all here, did +you, Ellen Montgomery?" + +"No, indeed, Ma'am," said Ellen, drawing Alice's cheek nearer +for another kiss. + +"We have but just come, Ellie," said her sister. "I should not +have been long in finding you out. My child, how thin you have +got." + +"Oh, I'll grow fat again now," said Ellen. + +"How is Miss Fortune?" + +"Oh, she is up again and well." + +"Have you any reason to expect your father home, Ellen?" said +Mrs. Chauncey. + +"Yes, Ma'am; aunt Fortune says perhaps he will be here in a +week." + +"Then you are very happy in looking forward, aren't you?" said +Miss Sophia, not noticing the cloud that had come over Ellen's +brow. + +Ellen hesitated coloured coloured more and finally, with +a sudden motion, hid her face against Alice. + +"When did he sail, Ellie?" said Alice, gravely. + +"In the _Duc d'Orleans_ he said he would " + +"_When?_" + +"The fifth of April. Oh, I can't help it!" exclaimed Ellen, +failing in the effort to control herself; she clasped Alice as +if she feared even then the separating hand. Alice bent her +head down, and whispered words of comfort. + +"Mamma!" said little Ellen Chauncey, under her breath, and +looking solemn to the last degree "don't Ellen want to see +her father?" + +"She's afraid that he may take her away where she will not be +with Alice any more; and you know she has no mother to go to." + +"Oh!" said Ellen, with a very enlightened face; "but he +won't, will he?" + +"I hope not; I think not." + +Cheered again, the little girl drew near, and silently took +one of Ellen's hands. + +"We shall not be parted, Ellie," said Alice "you need not +fear. If your father takes you away from your aunt Fortune, I +think it will be only to give you to me. You need not fear +yet." + +"Mamma says so too, Ellen," said her little friend. + +This was strong consolation. Ellen looked up and smiled. + +"Now come with me," said Ellen Chauncey, pulling her hand "I +want you to show me something; let's go down to the garden +come, exercise is good for you." + +"No, no," said her mother smiling "Ellen has had exercise +enough lately; you mustn't take her down to the garden now; +you would find nothing there. Come here!" + +A long whisper followed, which seemed to satisfy little Ellen, +and she ran out of the room. Some time passed in pleasant talk +and telling all that had happened since they had seen each +other; then little Ellen came back and called Ellen Montgomery +to the glass door, saying she wanted her to look at something. + +"It is only a horse we brought with us," said Miss Sophia. +"Ellen thinks it is a great beauty, and can't rest till you +have seen it." + +Ellen went accordingly to the door. There, to be sure, was +Thomas before it, holding a pony bridled and saddled. He was +certainly a very pretty, little creature; brown all over +except one white forefoot; his coat shone, it was so glossy; +his limbs were fine; his eye gentle and bright; his tail long +enough to please the children. He stood as quiet as a lamb, +whether Thomas held him or not. + +"Oh, what a beauty!" said Ellen "what a lovely little +horse!" + +"Ain't he!" said Ellen Chauncey "and he goes so beautifully +besides, and never starts nor nothing; and he is as good- +natured as a little dog." + +"As a _good-natured_ little dog, she means, Ellen," said Miss +Sophia "there are little dogs of very various character." + +"Well, he looks good-natured," said Ellen. "What a pretty +head! and what a beautiful new side-saddle, and all! I never +saw such a dear little horse in my life. Is it yours, Alice?" + +"No," said Alice, "it is a present to a friend of Mr. +Marshman's." + +"She'll be a very happy friend, I should think," said Ellen. + +"That's what I said," said Ellen Chauncey, dancing up and down + "that's what I said. I said you'd be happier by-and-by, +didn't I?" + +"I?" said Ellen, colouring. + +"Yes, you you are the friend it is for; it's for you, it's +for you! You are Grandpa's friend, aren't you?" she repeated, +springing upon Ellen, and hugging her up in an ecstasy of +delight. + +"But it isn't really for me, is it?" said Ellen, now looking +almost pale "oh, Alice!" + +"Come, come," said Miss Sophia "what will Papa say if I tell +him you received his present so? come, hold up your head! +Put on your bonnet and try him come, Ellen! let's see you." + +Ellen did not know whether to cry or laugh till she mounted +the pretty pony; that settled the matter. Not Ellen Chauncey's +unspeakable delight was as great as her own. She rode slowly +up and down before the house, and once a-going would not have +known how to stop if she had not recollected that the pony had +travelled thirty miles that day, and must be tired. Ellen took +not another turn after that. She jumped down, and begged +Thomas to take the tenderest care of him; patted his neck; ran +into the kitchen to beg of Margery a piece of bread to give +him from her hand; examined the new stirrup and housings, and +the pony all over a dozen times; and after watching him as +Thomas led him off, till he was out of sight, finally came +back into the house with a face of marvellous contentment. She +tried to fashion some message of thanks for the kind giver of +the pony; but she wanted to express so much that no words +would do. Mrs. Chauncey, however, smiled, and assured her she +knew exactly what to say. + +"That pony has been destined for you, Ellen," she said, "this +year and more; but my father waited to have him thoroughly +well broken. You need not be afraid of him! he is perfectly +gentle and well-trained; if he had not been sure of that, my +father would never have sent him though Mr. John is making +such a horsewoman of you." + +"I wish I could thank him," said Ellen, "but I don't know +how." + +"What will you call him, Ellen," said Miss Sophia. "My father +has dubbed him 'George Marshman;' he says you will like +that, as my brother is such a favourite of yours." + +"He didn't _really_, did he?" said Ellen, looking from Sophia to +Alice. "I needn't call him that, need I?" + +"Not unless you like," said Miss Sophia, laughing "you may +change it, but what _will_ you call him?" + +"I don't know," said Ellen, very gravely "he must have a +name, to be sure." + +"But why don't you call him that?" said Ellen Chauncey; +"George is a very pretty name I like that. I should call him +'Uncle George.' " + +"Oh, I couldn't!" said Ellen "I couldn't call him so; I +shouldn't like it at all." + +"George Washington?" said Mrs. Chauncey. + +"No, indeed!" said Ellen. "I guess I wouldn't!" + +"Why, is it too good, or not good enough?" said Miss Sophia. + +"Too good! A great deal too good for a horse. I wouldn't for +anything." + +"How would Brandywine do, then, since you are so patriotic?" +said Miss Sophia, looking amused. + +"What is 'patriotic?' " said Ellen. + +"A patriot, Ellen," said Alice, smiling "is one who has a +strong and true love for his country." + +"I don't know whether I am patriotic," said Ellen, "but I +won't call him Brandywine. Why, Miss Sophia?" + +"No, I wouldn't either," said Ellen Chauncey; "it isn't a +pretty name. Call him Seraphine! like Miss Angell's pony +_that's_ pretty." + +"No, no 'Seraphine!' nonsense!" said Miss Sophia; "call +him Benedict Arnold, Ellen; and then it will be a relief to +your mind to whip him." + +"Whip him!" said Ellen; "I don't want to whip him, I am sure; +and I should be afraid too, besides." + +"Hasn't John taught you that lesson, yet?" said the young +lady; "he is perfect in it himself. Do you remember, Alice, +the chastising he gave that fine black horse of ours we called +the 'Black Prince' a beautiful creature he was more that a +year ago? My conscience! he frightened me to death." + +"I remember," said Alice; "I remember I could not look on." + +"What did he do that for?" said Ellen. + +"What's the matter, Ellen Montgomery?" said Miss Sophia, +laughing; "where did you get that long face? Are you thinking +of John or the horse?" + +Ellen's eyes turned to Alice. + +"My dear Ellen," said Alice, smiling, though she spoke +seriously "it was necessary; it sometimes is necessary to do +such things. You do not suppose John would do it cruelly or +unnecessarily?" + +Ellen's face shortened considerably. + +"But what had the horse been doing?" + +"He had not been doing anything; he would _not_ do that was +the trouble; he was as obstinate as a mule." + +"My dear Ellen," said Alice, "it was no such terrible matter +as Sophia's words have made you believe. It was a clear case +of obstinacy. The horse was resolved to have his own way, and +not do what his rider required of him; it was necessary that +either the horse or the man should give up; and as John has no +fancy for giving up, he carried his point partly by +management, partly, I confess, by a judicious use of the whip +and spur; but there was no such furious flagellation as Sophia +seems to mean, and which a good horse-man would scarce be +guilty of." + +"A very determined 'use,' " said Miss Sophia. "I advise you, +Ellen, not to trust your pony to Mr. John; he will have no +mercy on him." + +"Sophia is laughing, Ellen," said Alice. "You and I know John, +do we not?" + +"Then he did right?" said Ellen. + +"Perfectly right except in mounting the horse at all, which +I never wished him to do. No one on the place would ride him." + +"He carried John beautifully all the day after that though," +said Miss Sophia, "and I dare say he might have ridden him to +the end of the chapter if you would have let papa give him to +him. But he was of no use to anybody else. Howard couldn't +manage him I suppose he was too lazy. Papa was delighted +enough that day to have given John anything. And I can tell +you, Black Prince the second is spirited enough; I am afraid +you won't like him." + +"John has a present of a horse, too, Ellen," said Alice. + +"Has he? from Mr. Marshman?" + +"Yes." + +"I'm very glad! Oh, what rides we can take now, can't we, +Alice? We shan't want to borrow Jenny's pony any more. What +kind of a horse is Mr. John's?" + +"Black perfectly black." + +"Is he handsome?" + +"Very." + +"Is his name Black Prince?" + +"Yes." + +Ellen began to consider the possibility of calling her pony +the Brown Princess, or by some similar title the name of +John's two chargers seeming the very most striking a horse +could be known by. + +"Don't forget, Alice," said Mrs. Chauncey, "to tell John to +stop for him on his way home. It will give us a chance of +seeing him, which is not a common pleasure, in any sense of +the term." + +They went back to the subject of the name, which Ellen +pondered with uneasy visions of John and her poor pony +flitting through her head. The little horse was very hard to +fit, or else Ellen's taste was very hard to suit; a great many +names were proposed, none of which were to her mind, Charley, +and Cherry, and Brown, and Dash, and Jumper but she said +they had "John" and "Jenny" already in Thirlwall, and she +didn't want a "Charley." "Brown" was not pretty, and she hoped +he wouldn't "dash" at anything, nor be a "jumper" when she was +on his back. "Cherry" she mused awhile about, but it wouldn't +do. + +"Call him Fairy," said Ellen Chauncey "that's a pretty name. +Mamma says she used to have a horse called Fairy. Do, Ellen! +call him Fairy." + +"No," said Ellen; "he can't have a lady's name that's the +trouble." + +"I have it, Ellen!" said Alice "I have a name for you call +him the Brownie." + +" 'The Brownie?' " said Ellen. + +"Yes brownies are male fairies; and brown is his colour; so +how will that do?" + +It was soon decided that it would do very well. It was simple, +descriptive, and not common: Ellen made up her mind that 'The +Brownie' should be his name. No sooner given, it began to grow +dear. Ellen's face quitted its look of anxious gravity, and +came out into the broadest and fullest satisfaction. She never +showed joy boisterously; but there was a light in her eye +which brought many a smile into those of her friends as they +sat round the tea-table. + +After tea it was necessary to go home, much to the sorrow of +all parties. Ellen knew, however, it would not do to stay; +Miss Fortune was but just got well, and perhaps already +thinking herself ill-used. She put on her things. + +"Are you going to take your pony home with you?" said Miss +Sophia. + +"Oh, no, Ma'am, not to-night. I must see about a place for +him; and, besides, poor fellow, he is tired, I dare say." + +"I do believe you would take more care of his legs than of +your own," said Miss Sophia. + +"But you'll be here to-morrow early, Ellie?" + +"Oh, won't I?" exclaimed Ellen, as she sprang to Alice's neck + "as early as I can, at least; I don't know when Aunt Fortune +will have done with me." + +The way home seemed as nothing. If she was tired, she did not +know it. The Brownie! the Brownie! the thought of him +carried her as cleverly over the ground as his very back would +have done. She came running into the chip-yard. + +"Hollo!" cried Mr. Van Brunt, who was standing under the +apple-tree, cutting a piece of wood for the tongue of the ox- +cart, which had been broken "I'm glad to see you _can_ run. I +was afeard you'd hardly be able to stand by this time; but +there you come like a young deer!" + +"Oh, Mr. Van Brunt," said Ellen, coming close up to him, and +speaking in an undertone "you don't know what a present I +have had! What do you think, Mr. Marshman has sent me from +Ventnor?" + +"Couldn't guess," said Mr. Van Brunt, resting the end of his +pole on the log, and chipping at it with his hatchet "never +guessed anything in my life what is it?" + +"He has sent me the most beautiful little horse you ever saw! + for my own for me to ride; and a beautiful saddle and +bridle; you never saw anything so beautiful, Mr. Van Brunt; he +is all brown, with one white fore-foot, and I've named him the +'Brownie;' and oh, Mr. Van Brunt! Do you think Aunt Fortune +will let him come here?" + +Mr. Van Brunt chipped away at his pole, looking very good- +humoured. + +"Because you know I couldn't have half the good of him if he +had to stay away from me up on the mountain. I shall want to +ride him every day. Do you think aunt Fortune will let him be +kept here, Mr. Van Brunt?" + +"I guess she will," said Mr. Van Brunt, soberly, and his tone +said to Ellen, "_I_ will, if she don't." + +"Then will you ask her and see about it, if you please, Mr. +Van Brunt! I'd rather you would. And you won't have him put to +plough or anything, will you, Mr. Van Brunt? Miss Sophia says +it would spoil him." + +"I'll plough myself first," said Mr. Van Brunt, with his half- +smile; "there shan't be a hair of his coat turned the wrong +way. _I'll_ see to him as if he was a prince." + +"Oh, thank you, dear Mr. Van Brunt! How good you are! Then I +shall not speak about him at all till you do, remember. I am +_very_ much obliged to you, Mr. Van Brunt!" + +Ellen ran in. She got a chiding for her long stay, but it fell +upon ears that could not hear. The Brownie came like a shield +between her and all trouble. She smiled at her aunt's hard +words as if they had been sugar-plums. And her sleep that +night might have been prairie land, for the multitude of +horses of all sorts that chased through it. + +"Have you heerd the news?" said Mr. Van Brunt, when he had got +his second cup of coffee at breakfast next morning. + +"No," said Miss Fortune. "What news?" + +"There ain't as much news as there used to be when I was +young," said the old lady; "seems to me I don't hear nothing +now-a-days." + +"You might if you'd keep your ears open, mother. _What_ news, +Mr. Van Brunt?" + +"Why, here's Ellen's got a splendid little horse sent her a +present from some of her great friends Mr. Marshchalk" + +"Mr. Marshman," said Ellen. + +"Mr. Marshman. There ain't the like in the country, as I've +heerd tell; and I expect next thing she'll be flying over all +the fields and fences like smoke." + +There was a meaning silence. Ellen's heart beat. + +"What's going to be done with him, do you suppose?" said Miss +Fortune. Her look said, "If you think I am coming round, you +are mistaken." + +"Humph!" said Mr. Van Brunt, slowly "I s'pose he'll eat +grass in the meadow, and there'll be a place fixed for him in +the stables." + +"Not in _my_ stables," said the lady, shortly. + +"No in mine," said Mr. Van Brunt, half-smiling; "and I'll +settle with you about it by-and-by when we square up our +accounts." + +Miss Fortune was very much vexed, Ellen could see that; but +she said no more, good or bad, about the matter; so the +Brownie was allowed to take quiet possession of meadow and +stables, to his mistress's unbounded joy. + +Anybody that knew Mr. Van Brunt would have been surprised to +hear what he said that morning; for he was thought to be quite +as keen a looker after the main chance as Miss Fortune +herself, only somehow it was never laid against him as it was +against her. However that might be, it was plain he took +pleasure in keeping his word about the pony. Ellen herself +couldn't have asked more careful kindness for her favourite +than the Brownie had from every man and boy about the farm. + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + +Timothy and his master. + + +Captain Montgomery did _not_ come the next week, nor the week +after; and what is more, the _Duck Dorleens_, as his sister +called the ship in which he had taken passage, was never heard +of from that time. She sailed duly on the fifth of April, as +they learnt from the papers; but whatever became of her, she +never reached port. It remained a doubt whether Captain +Montgomery had actually gone in her; and Ellen had many weeks +of anxious watching, first for herself and then for news of +him, in case he were still in France. None ever came. Anxiety +gradually faded into uncertainty; and by midsummer, no doubt +of the truth remained in any mind. If Captain Montgomery had +been alive, he would certainly have written, if not before, on +learning the fate of the vessel in which he had told his +friends to expect him home. + +Ellen rather felt that she was an orphan, than that she had +lost her father. She had never learned to love him, he had +never given her much cause. Comparatively a small portion of +her life had been passed in his society, and she looked back +to it as the least agreeable of all; and it had not been +possible for her to expect with pleasure his return to +America, and visit to Thirlwall she dreaded it. Life had +nothing now worse for her than a separation from Alice and +John Humphreys; she feared her father might take her away, and +put her in some dreadful boarding-school, or carry her about +the world wherever he went, a wretched wanderer from +everything good and pleasant. The knowledge of his death had +less pain for her than the removal of this fear brought +relief. + +Ellen felt sometimes, soberly and sadly, that she was thrown +upon the wide world now. To all intents and purposes so she +had been a year and three-quarters before; but it was +something to have a father and mother living, even on the +other side of the world. Now, Miss Fortune was her sole +guardian and owner. However, she could hardly realize that, +with Alice and John so near at hand. Without reasoning much +about it, she felt tolerably secure that they would take care +of her interests, and make good their claim to interfere if +ever need were. + +Ellen and her little horse grew more and more fond of each +other. This friendship, no doubt, was a comfort to the +Brownie; but to his mistress it made a large part of the +pleasure of her every-day life. To visit him was her delight, +at all hours, early and late; and it is to the Brownie's +credit that he always seemed as glad to see her as she was to +see him. At any time Ellen's voice would bring him from the +far end of the meadow where he was allowed to run. He would +come trotting up at her call, and stand to have her scratch +his forehead or pat him and talk to him; and though the +Brownie could not answer her speeches, he certainly seemed to +hear them with pleasure. Then throwing up his head he would +bound off, take a turn in the field, and come back again to +stand as still as a lamb as long as she stayed there herself. +Now and then, when she had a little more time, she would cross +the fence and take a walk with him; and there, with his nose +just at her elbow, wherever she went the Brownie went after +her. After a while there was no need that she should call him; +if he saw or heard her at a distance it was enough; he would +come running up directly. Ellen loved him dearly. + +She gave him more proof of it than words and caresses. Many +were the apples and scraps of bread hoarded up for him; and if +these failed, Ellen sometimes took him a little salt, to show +him that he was not forgotten. There were not, certainly, many +scraps left at Miss Fortune's table; nor apples to be had at +home for such a purpose, except what she gathered up from the +poor ones that were left under the trees for the hogs; but +Ellen had other sources of supply. Once she had begged from +Jenny Hitchcook a waste bit that she was going to throw away; +Jenny found what she wanted to do with it, and after that, +many a basket of apples and many a piece of cold short-cake +was set by for her. Margery, too, remembered the Brownie when +disposing of her odds and ends; likewise did Mrs. Van Brunt; +so that among them all, Ellen seldom wanted something to give +him. Mr. Marshman did not know what happiness he was bestowing +when he sent her that little horse. Many, many were the hours +of enjoyment she had upon his back. Ellen went nowhere but +upon the Brownie. Alice made her a riding-dress of dark +gingham; and it was the admiration of the country to see her +trotting or cantering by, all alone, and always looking happy. +Ellen soon found that if the Brownie was to do her much good, +she must learn to saddle and bridle him herself. This was very +awkward at first, but there was no help for it. Mr. Van Brunt +showed her how to manage, and after a while it became quite +easy. She used to call the Brownie to the bar-place, put the +bridle on, and let him out; and then he would stand motionless +before her while she fastened the saddle on; looking round +sometimes, as if to make sure that it was herself, and giving +a little kind of satisfied neigh when he saw that it was. +Ellen's heart began to dance as soon as she felt him moving +under her; and once off and away on the docile and spirited +little animal, over the roads, through the lanes, up and down +the hills, her horse her only companion, but having the most +perfect understanding with him, both Ellen and the Brownie +cast care to the winds. "I do believe," said Mr. Van Brunt, +"that critter would a _leetle_ rather have Ellen on his back +than not." He was the Brownie's next best friend. Miss Fortune +never said anything to him or of him. + +Ellen, however, reaped a reward for her faithful steadiness to +duty while her aunt was ill. Things were never after that as +they had been before. She was looked on with a different eye. +To be sure, Miss Fortune tasked her as much as ever, spoke as +sharply, was as ready to scold if anything went wrong; all +that was just as it used to be; but beneath all that, Ellen +felt with great satisfaction that she was trusted and +believed. She was no longer an interloper, in everybody's way; +she was not watched and suspected; her aunt treated her as one +of the family, and a person to be depended on. It was a very +great comfort to little Ellen's life. Miss Fortune even owned +that "she believed she was an honest child, and meant to do +right" a great deal from her; Miss Fortune was never over +forward to give any one the praise of _honesty_. Ellen now went +out and came in without feeling she was an alien. And though +her aunt was always bent on keeping herself and everybody else +at work, she did not now show any particular desire for +breaking off Ellen from her studies; and was generally +willing, when the work was pretty well done up, that she +should saddle the Brownie, and be off to Alice or Mrs. Vawse. + +Though Ellen was happy, it was a sober kind of happiness the +sun shining behind a cloud. And if others thought her so, it +was not because she laughed loudly or wore a merry face. + +"I can't help but think," said Mrs. Van Brunt, "that that +child has something more to make her happy that what she gets +in this world." + +There was a quilting party gathered that afternoon at Mrs. Van +Brunt's house. + +"There is no doubt of that, neighbour," said Mrs. Vawse; +"nobody ever found enough here to make him happy yet." + +"Well, I don't want to see a prettier girl that that," said +Mrs. Lowndes; "you'll never catch her, working at home or +riding along on that handsome little critter of her'n, that +she han't a pleasant look and a smile for you, and as pretty +behaved as can be. I never see her look sorrowful but once." + +"Ain't that a pretty horse?" said Mimy Lawson. + +"_I've_ seen her look sorrowful, though," said Sarah Lowndes; +"I've been up at the house when Miss Fortune was hustling +everybody round, and as sharp as vinegar, and you'd think it +would take Job's patience to stand it and for all there +wouldn't be a bit of crossness in that child's face she'd go +round, and not say a word that wasn't just so; you'd a thought +her bread was all spread with honey, and everybody knows it +ain't. I don't see how she could do it, for my part: I know _I_ +couldn't." + +"Ah, neighbour," said Mrs.Vawse, "Ellen looks higher than to +please her aunt; she tries to please her God; and one can bear +people's words or looks, when one is pleasing Him. She is a +dear child!" + +"And there's 'Brahm," said Mrs. Van Brunt; "he thinks the hull +world of her. I never see him take so to any one. There ain't +an airthly thing he wouldn't do to please her. If she was his +own child, I've no idee he could set her up more than he +does." + +"Very well!" said Nancy, coming up "good reason! Ellen don't +set him up any, does she? I wish you'd just seen her once, the +time when Miss Fortune was a-bed the way she'd look out for +him! Mr. Van Brunt's as good as at home in that house, sure +enough; whoever's down-stairs." + +"Bless her dear little heart!" said his mother. + +"A good name is better than precious ointment." + +August had come, and John was daily expected home. One morning +Miss Fortune was in the lower kitchen, up to the elbows in +making a rich fall cheese; Ellen was busy upstairs, when her +aunt shouted to her to "come and see what was all that +splashing and crashing in the garden." Ellen ran out. + +"Oh, Aunt Fortune," said she "Timothy has broken down the +fence, and got in." + +"Timothy!" said Miss Fortune "what Timothy?" + +"Why, Timothy, the near ox," said Ellen, laughing; "he has +knocked down the fence over there where it was low, you know." + +"The near ox?" said Miss Fortune "I wish he warn't quite, so +near this time. Look! he'll be at the corn, and over every +thing. Run and drive him into the barnyard, can't you?" + +But Ellen stood still, and shook her head. "He wouldn't stir +for me," she said; "and besides, I am as afraid of that ox as +can be. If it was Clover, I wouldn't mind." + +"But he'll have every bit of the corn eaten up in five +minutes! Where's Mr. Van Brunt?" + +"I heard him say he was going home till noon," said Ellen. + +"And Sam Larkens is gone to the mill and Johnny Low is laid +up with the shakes. Very careless of Mr. Van Brunt!" said Miss +Fortune, drawing her arms out of the cheese-tub, and wringing +off the whey "I wish he'd mind his own oxen. There was no +business to be a low place in the fence! Well come along! you +ain't afraid with me, I suppose." + +Ellen followed, at a respectful distance. Miss Fortune, +however, feared the face of neither man nor beast; she pulled +up a bean pole, and made such a show of fight, that Timothy, +after looking at her a little, fairly turned tail, and marched +out at the breach he had made. Miss Fortune went after, and +rested not till she had driven him quite into the meadow; +get him into the barnyard she could not. + +"You ain't worth a straw, Ellen!" said she, when she came +back; "couldn't you ha' headed him, and driv' him into the +barnyard? Now that plaguy beast will just be back again by the +time I get well to work. He han't done much mischief yet +there's Mr. Van Brunt's salary he's made a pretty mess of +I'm glad on't! He should ha' put potatoes, as I told him. I +don't know what's to be done I can't be leaving my cheese to +run and mind the garden every minute, if it was full of +Timothys; and _you'd_ be scared if a mosquito flew at you; you +had better go right off for Mr. Van Brunt, and fetch him +straight home serve him right! he has no business to leave +things so. Run along, and don't let the grass grow under your +feet!" + +Ellen wisely thought her pony's feet would do the business +quicker. She ran and put on her gingham dress, and saddled and +bridled the Brownie in three minutes; but, before setting off, +she had to scream to her aunt that Timothy was just coming +round the corner of the barn again; and Miss Fortune rushed +out to the garden as Ellen and the Brownie walked down to the +gate. + +The weather was fine, and Ellen thought with herself, it was +an ill wind that blew no good. She was getting a nice ride in +the early morning, that she would not have had but for +Timothy's lawless behaviour. To ride at that time was +particularly pleasant and rare; and, forgetting how she had +left poor Miss Fortune, between the ox and the cheese-tub, +Ellen and the Brownie cantered on in excellent spirits. + +She looked in vain, as she passed his grounds, to see Mr. Van +Brunt in the garden or about the barn. She went on to the +little gate of the courtyard, dismounted, and led the Brownie +in. Here she was met by Nancy, who came running from the way +of the barnyard. + +"How d'ye do, Nancy?" said Ellen; "where's Mr. Van Brunt?" + +"Goodness, Ellen! what do you want?" + +"I want Mr. Van Brunt where is he?" + +"Mr. Van Brunt! he's out in the barn; but he's used himself +up." + +"Used himself up; what do you mean?" + +"Why, he's fixed himself in fine style he's fell though the +trapdoor, and broke his leg." + +"Oh, Nancy!" screamed Ellen "he hasn't! How could he?" + +"Why, easy enough, if he didn't look where he was going +there's so much hay on the floor. But it's a pretty bad place +to fall." + +"How do you know his leg is broken?" + +" 'Cause he says so, and anybody with eyes can see it must be. +I'm going over to Hitchcock's to get somebody to come and help +in with him; for you know me and Mrs. Van Brunt ain't +Samsons." + +"Where is Mrs. Van Brunt?" + +"She 's out there, in a terrible to-do." + +Nancy sped on to the Hitchcock's; and, greatly frightened and +distressed, Ellen ran over to the barn, trembling like an +aspen. Mr. Van Brunt was lying in the lower floor, just where +he had fallen, one leg doubled under him in such a way as left +no doubt it must be broken. He had lain there some time before +any one found him; and on trying to change his position, when +he saw his mother's distress, he had fainted from pain. She +sat by, weeping most bitterly. Ellen could bear but one look +at Mr. Van Brunt that one sickened her. She went up to his +poor mother, and, getting down on her knees by her side, put +both arms round her neck. + +"_Don't_ cry so, dear Mrs. Van Brunt" (Ellen was crying so she +could hardly speak herself), "pray don't do so! he'll be +better oh, what shall we do?" + +"Oh, ain't it dreadful!" said poor Mrs. Van Brunt; +"oh,'Brahm, 'Brahm! My son, my son! the best son that ever +was to me oh, to see him there; ain't it dreadful? he's +dying!" + +"Oh, no, he isn't," said Ellen "oh, no, he isn't! what shall +we do, Mrs. Van Brunt? what shall we do?" + +"The doctor!" said Mrs. Van Brunt "he said 'send for the +doctor;' but I can't go, and there's nobody to send. Oh, +he'll die! Oh, my dear 'Brahm! I wish it was me!" + +"What doctor?" said Ellen "I'll find somebody to go what +doctor?" + +"Dr. Gibson, he said; but he's away off to Thirlwall; and he's +been lying here all the morning a'ready! nobody found him +he couldn't make us hear. Oh, isn't it dreadful!" + +"Oh, don't cry so, dear Mrs. Van Brunt," said Ellen, pressing +her cheek to the poor old lady's; "he'll be better he +will! I've got the Brownie here and I'll ride over to Mrs. +Hitchcock's and get somebody to go right away for the doctor. +I won't be long we'll have him here in a little while! _don't_ +feel so bad!" + +"You're a dear blessed darling!" said the old lady, hugging +and kissing her "if ever there was one. Make haste, dear, if +you love him! he loves you." + +Ellen stayed but to give another kiss. Trembling so that she +could hardly stand, she made her way back to the house, led +out the Brownie again, and set off, full speed for Mrs. +Hitchcock's. It was well her pony was sure-footed, for, +letting the reins hang, Ellen bent over his neck, crying +bitterly, only urging him now and then to greater speed; till +at length the feeling that she had something to do came to her +help. She straightened herself, gathered up her reins, and by +the time she reached Mrs. Hitchcock's, was looking calm again, +though very sad and very earnest. She did not alight, but +stopped before the door, and called Jenny. Jenny came out, +expressing her pleasure. + +"Dear Jenny," said Ellen "isn't there somebody here that +will go right off to Thirlwall for Dr. Gibson? Mr. Van Brunt +has broken his leg, I am afraid, and wants the doctor +directly." + +"Why, dear Ellen," said Jenny, "the men have just gone off +this minute to Mrs. Van Brunt's. Nancy was here for them to +come and help move him in a great hurry. How did it happen? I +couldn't get anything out of Nancy." + +"He fell down through the trap-door. But, dear Jenny, isn't +there _anybody_ about? Oh," said Ellen, clasping her hands "I +want somebody to go for the doctor _so_ much!" + +"There ain't a living soul!" said Jenny; "two of the men and +all the teams are 'way on the other side of the hill, +ploughing, and pa, and June, and Black Bill have gone over, as +I told you; but I don't believe they'll be enough. Where's his +leg broke?" + +"I didn't meet them," said Ellen; "I came away only a little +while after Nancy." + +"They went 'cross lots, I guess that's how it was; and +that's the way Nancy got the start of you." + +"What shall I do?" said Ellen. She could not bear to wait till +they returned; if she rode back she might miss them again, +besides the delay; and then a man on foot would make a long +journey of it. Jenny told her of a house or two where she +might try for a messenger; but they were strangers to her +she could not make up her mind to ask such a favour of them. +Her friends were too far out of the way. + +"I'll go myself!" she said, suddenly. "Tell 'em, dear Jenny, +will you, that I have gone for Dr. Gibson, and that I'll bring +him back as quick as ever I can. I know the road to +Thirlwall." + +"But Ellen! you mustn't," said Jenny; "I am afraid to have you +go all that way alone. Wait till the men come back they +won't be long." + +"No, I can't, Jenny," said Ellen, "I can't wait; I must go. +You needn't be afraid. Tell 'em I'll be as quick as I can." + +"But see, Ellen!" cried Jenny as she was moving off, "I +don't like to have you!" + +"I must, Jenny. Never mind." + +"But see, Ellen!" cried Jenny again, "if you _will_ go if +you don't find Dr. Gibson, just get Dr. Marshchalk he's +every bit as good, and some folks think he's better; he'll +do just as well. Good-bye!" + +Ellen nodded and rode off. There was a little fluttering of +the heart at taking so much upon herself; she had never been +to Thirlwall but once since the first time she saw it. But she +thought of Mr. Van Brunt, suffering for help which could not +be obtained, and it was impossible for her to hesitate. "I am +sure I am doing right," she thought; "and what is there to be +afraid of? If I ride two miles alone, why shouldn't I four? +And I am doing right God will take care of me." Ellen +earnestly asked him to do so; and after that she felt pretty +easy. "Now, dear Brownie," said she, patting his neck, "you +and I have work to do to-day; behave like a good little horse +as you are." The Brownie answered with a little cheerful kind +of neigh, as much as to say, Never fear me! They trotted on +nicely. + +But nothing could help that's being a disagreeable ride. Do +what she would, Ellen felt a little afraid when she found +herself on a long piece of road where she had never been alone +before. There were not many houses on the way; the few there +were looked strange. Ellen did not know exactly where she was, +or how near the end of her journey; it seemed a long one. She +felt rather lonely; a little shy of meeting people, and yet a +little unwilling to have the intervals between them so very +long. She repeated to herself, "I am doing right God will +take care of me." Still there was a nervous trembling at +heart. Sometimes she would pat her pony's neck, and say, "Trot +on, dear Brownie, we'll soon be there!" by way of cheering +herself: for certainly the Brownie needed no cheering, and was +trotting on bravely. Then the thought of Mr. Van Brunt, as she +had seen him lying on the barn floor, made her feel sick and +miserable; many tears fell during her ride, when she +remembered him. "Heaven will be a good place," thought little +Ellen, as she went; "there will be no sickness, no pain, no +sorrow; but Mr. Van Brunt I wonder if he is fit to go to +heaven?" This was a new matter of thought and uneasiness, not +now for the first time, in Ellen's mind; and so the time +passed, till she crossed the bridge over the little river, and +saw the houses of Thirlwall stretching away in the distance. +Then she felt comfortable. + +Long before, she had bethought her that she did not know where +to find Dr. Gibson, and had forgotten to ask Jenny. For one +instant Ellen drew bridle, but it was too far to go back, and +she recollected anybody could tell her where the doctor lived. +When she got to Thirlwall, however, Ellen found that she did +not like to ask _anybody_. She remembered her old friend Mrs. +Forbes, of the Star inn, and resolved she would go there, in +the first place. She rode slowly up the street, looking +carefully till she came to the house. There was no mistaking +it; there was the very same big star over the front door, that +had caught her eye from the coach-window, and there was the +very same boy or man, Sam, lounging on the sidewalk. Ellen +reigned up, and asked him to ask Mrs. Forbes if she would be +so good as to come out to her for one minute. Sam gave her a +long Yankee look and disappeared, coming back again directly +with the landlady. + +"How d'ye do, Mrs. Forbes?" said Ellen, holding out her hand; +"don't you know me? I am Ellen Montgomery that you were so +kind to, and gave me bread and milk when I first came here +Miss Fortune's " + +"Oh, bless your dear little heart!" cried the landlady; "don't +I know you! and ain't I glad to see you! I must have a kiss. +Bless you! I couldn't mistake you in Jerusalem; but the sun +was in my eyes, in that way I was a'most blind. But ain't you +grown, though! Forget you? I guess I han't! There's one o' +your friends wouldn't let me do that in a hurry. If I han't +seen you, I've heered on you. But what are you sitting there +in the sun for? Come in come in and I'll give you +something better than bread and milk this time. Come! jump +down." + +"Oh, I can't, Mrs. Forbes," said Ellen, "I am in a great +hurry; Mr. Van Brunt has broken his leg, and I want to find +the doctor." + +"Mr. Van Brunt!" cried the landlady. "Broken his leg! The +land's sakes! how did he do that? _he_, too!" + +"He fell down through the trap-door in the barn; and I want to +get Dr. Gibson, as soon as I can, come to him. Where does he +live, Mrs. Forbes?" + +"Dr. Gibson? you won't catch him to hum, dear; he's flying +round somewheres. But how come the trap-door to be open? and +how happened Mr. Van Brunt not to see it afore he put his foot +in it? Dear! I declare I'm real sorry to hear you tell. How +happened it, darlin'? I'm cur'ous to hear." + +"I don't know, Mrs. Forbes," said Ellen, "but oh, where shall +I find Dr. Gibson? Do tell me! he ought to be there now; +oh, help me! where shall I go for him?" + +"Well, I declare," said the landlady, stepping back a pace, "I +don't know as I can tell there ain't no sort o' likelihood +that he's to hum this time o' day. Sam! you lazy feller, you +han't got nothing to do but gape at folks ha' you seen the +doctor go by this forenoon?" + +"I seen him go down to Mis' Perriman's," said Sam, "Mis' +Perriman was a-dyin', Jim Barstow said." + +"How long since?" said his mistress. + +But Sam shuffled and shuffled, looked every way but at Ellen +or Mrs. Forbes, and "didn' know." + +"Well, then," said Mrs. Forbes, turning to Ellen, "I don' know +but you might about as well go down to the post-office; but, +if _I_ was you, I'd just get Dr. Marshchalk instead. He's a +smarter man than Dr. Gibson any day in the year; and he ain't +quite so awful high neither, and that's something. _I'd_ get Dr. +Marshchalk; they say there ain't the like o' him in the +country for settin' bones; it's quite a gift; he takes to it +natural like." + +But Ellen said Mr. Van Brunt wanted Dr. Gibson, and if she +could she must find him. + +"Well," said Mrs. Forbes, "every one has their fancies; I +wouldn't let Dr. Gibson come near me with a pair of tongs; but +anyhow, if you must have him, your best way is to go right +straight down to the post-office, and ask for him there, maybe +you'll catch him." + +"Thank you, Ma'am," said Ellen; "where is the post-office?" + +"It's that white-faced house down street," said the landlady, +pointing with her finger where Ellen saw no lack of white- +faced houses; "you see that big red store, with the man +standing out in front? the next white house below that is +Mis' Perriman's; just run right in and ask for Dr. Gibson. +Good-bye, dear I'm real sorry you can't come in that first +white house." + +Glad to get free, Ellen rode smartly down to the post-office. +Nobody before the door; there was nothing for it but to get +off here and go in; she did not know the people either. "Never +mind, wait for me a minute, dear Brownie, like a good little +horse as you are!" + +No fear of the Brownie. He stood as if he did not mean to +budge again in a century. At first going in, Ellen saw nobody +in the post-office; presently, at an opening in a kind of +boxed-up place in one corner, a face looked out and asked what +she wanted. + +"Is Dr. Gibson here?" + +"No," said the owner of the face, with a disagreeable kind of +smile. + +"Isn't this Miss Perriman's house?" + +"You are in the right box, my dear, and no mistake," said the +young man; "but then it ain't Dr. Gibson's house, you know." + +"Can you tell me, Sir, where I can find him?" + +"Can't indeed; the doctor never tells me where he is going, +and I never ask him. I am sorry I didn't this morning, for +your sake." + +The way, and the look, made the words extremely disagreeable; +and, furthermore, Ellen had an uncomfortable feeling that +neither was new to her. Where _had_ she seen the man before? she +puzzled herself to think. Where but in a dream had she seen +that bold, ill-favoured face, that horrible smile, that sandy +hair? She knew! It was Mr. Saunders, the man who had sold her +the merino at St. Clair and Fleury's. She knew him; and she +was very sorry to see that he knew her. All she desired now, +was to get out of the house and away; but on turning she saw +another man, older and respectable-looking, whose face +encouraged her to ask again if Dr. Gibson was there. He was +not, the man said; he had been there and gone. + +"Do you know where I should be likely to find him, Sir?" + +"No, I don't," said he; "who wants him?" + +"I want to see him, Sir." + +"For yourself?" + +"No, Sir; Mr. Van Brunt has broken his leg, and wants Dr. +Gibson to come directly and set it." + +"Mr. Van Brunt!" said he "Farmer Van Brunt that lives down +towards the Cat's Back? I'm very sorry! How did it happen?" + +Ellen told as shortly as possible, and again begged to know +where she might look for Dr. Gibson. + +"Well," said he, "the best plan I can think of, will be for +you how did you come here?" + +"I came on horseback, Sir." + +"Ah well the best plan will be for you to ride up to his +house; maybe he'll have left word there, and anyhow _you_ can +leave word for him to come down as soon as he gets home. Do +you know where the doctor lives?" + +"No, Sir." + +"Come here," said he, pulling her to the door "you can't see +it from here; but you must ride up the street till you have +passed two churches, one on the right hand first, and then, a +good piece beyond, you'll come to another red brick one on the +left hand and Dr. Gibson lives in the next block but one +after that, on the other side anybody will tell you the +house. Is that your horse?" + +"Yes, Sir. I'm very much obliged to you." + +"Well, I will say! if you han't the prettiest fit out in +Thirlwall shall I help you? will you have a cheer?" + +"No, I thank you Sir; I'll bring him up to this step; it will +do just as well. I am _very_ much obliged to you, Sir." + +He did not seem to hear her thanks; he was all eyes; and, with +his clerk, stood looking after her till she was out of sight. + +Poor Ellen found it a long way up to the doctor's. The post- +office was near the lower end of the town, and the doctor's +house was near the upper; she passed one church, and then the +other, but there was a long distance between, or what she +thought so. Happily, the Brownie did not seem tired at all; +his little mistress _was_ tired, and disheartened too. And +there, all this time, was poor Mr. Van Brunt, lying without a +doctor! She could not bear to think of it. + +She jumped down when she came to the block she had been told +of, and easily found the house where Dr. Gibson lived. She +knocked at the door. A grayhaired woman with a very ill- +favoured countenance presented herself. Ellen asked for the +doctor. + +"He ain't to hum." + +"When will he be at home?" + +"Couldn't say." + +"Before dinner?" + +The woman shook her head. + +"Guess not till late in the day." + +"Where is he gone?" + +"He is gone to Babcock gone to attend a 'consummation,' I +guess, he told me Babcock is a considerable long way." + +Ellen thought a minute. + +"Can you tell me where Dr. Marshchalk lives?" + +"I guess you'd better wait till Dr. Gibson comes back, han't +you?" said the woman coaxingly; "he'll be along by-and-by. +If you'll leave your name I'll give it to him." + +"I cannot wait," said Ellen, "I am in a dreadful hurry. Will +you be so good as to tell me where Dr. Marshchalk lives?" + +"Well if so be you're in such a takin' you can't wait you +know where Mis' Forbes lives?" + +"At the inn? the Star! yes." + +"He lives a few doors this side o' her'n; you'll know it the +first minute you set your eyes on it it's painted a bright +yaller." + +Ellen thanked her, once more mounted, and rode down the +street. + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + +Wherein the black Prince arrives opportunely. + + +The yellow door, as the old woman had said, was not to be +mistaken. Again Ellen dismounted and knocked; then she heard a +slow step coming along the entry, and the pleasant, kind face +of Miss Janet appeared at the open door. It was a real +refreshment, and Ellen wanted one. + +"Why, it's dear little ain't it? her that lives down to +Miss Fortune Emerson's? yes, it is; come in, dear; I'm +very glad to see you. How's all at your house?" + +"Is the doctor at home, Ma'am?" + +"No, dear, he ain't to home just this minute, but he'll be in +directly; Come in; is that your horse? just hitch him to +the post there, so he won't run away, and come right in. Who +did you come along with?" + +"Nobody, Ma'am I came alone," said Ellen, while she obeyed +Miss Janet's directions. + +"Alone! on that 'ere little skittish creeter? he's as +handsome as a picture, too why, do tell if you warn't +afraid? it a'most scares me to think of it." + +"I was a little afraid," said Ellen, as she followed Miss +Janet along the entry "but I couldn't help that. You think +the doctor will soon be in, Ma'am?" + +"Yes, dear, sure of it," said Miss Janet, kissing Ellen and +taking off her bonnet; "he won't be five minutes, for it's +a'most dinner time. What's the matter, dear? is Miss Fortune +sick again?" + +"No, Ma'am," said Ellen, sadly, "Mr. Van Brunt has fallen +through the trap-door in the barn and broken his leg." + +"Oh!" cried the old lady, with a face of real horror "you +don't tell me! Fell through the trap-door! and he ain't a +light weight neither; oh, that is a lamentable event! And +how is the poor old mother, dear?" + +"She is very much troubled, Ma'am," said Ellen, crying at the +remembrance; "and he has been lying ever since early this +morning without anybody to set it; I have been going round and +round for a doctor this ever so long." + +"Why, warn't there nobody to come but you, you poor lamb?" +said Miss Janet. + +"No, Ma'am; nobody quick enough; and I had the Brownie there, +and so I came." + +"Well, cheer up, dear! the doctor will be here now, and we'll +send him right off; he won't be long about his dinner, I'll +engage. Come and set in this big cheer do! it'll rest you; +I see you're a'most tired out, and it ain't a wonder. There +don't that feel better? now I'll give you a little sup of +dinner, for you won't want to swallow it at the rate Leander +will his'n. Dear! dear! to think of poor Mr. Van Brunt! He's +a likely man, too; I'm very sorry for him and his poor mother. +A kind body she is, as ever the sun shined upon." + +"And so is he," said Ellen. + +"Well, so I dare say," said Miss Janet; "but I don't know so +much about him; hows'ever, he's got everybody's good word as +far as I know; he's a likely man." + +The little room in which Miss Janet had brought Ellen was very +plainly furnished indeed, but as neat as hands could make it. +The carpet was as crumbless and lintless as if meals were +never taken there, nor work seen; and yet a little table ready +set for dinner forbade the one conclusion, and a huge basket +of naperies in one corner showed that Miss Janet's industry +did not spend itself in housework alone. Before the fire stood +a pretty good-sized kettle, and a very appetizing smell came +from it to Ellen's nose. In spite of sorrow and anxiety, her +ride had made her hungry. It was not without pleasure that she +saw her kind hostess arm herself with a deep plate and a tin +dipper, and carefully taking off the pot cover, so that no +drops might fall on the hearth, proceed to ladle out a goodly +supply of what Ellen knew was that excellent country dish +called pot-pie. Excellent it is when well made, and that was +Miss Janet's. The pieces of crust were white and light like +new bread; the very tit-bits of the meat she culled out for +Ellen; and the soup-gravy, poured over all, would have met +even Miss Fortune's wishes, from its just degree of richness +and exact seasoning. Smoking hot, it was placed before Ellen, +on a little stand by her easy-chair, with some nice bread and +butter; and presently Miss Janet poured her out a cup of tea; +"for," she said, "Leander never could take his dinner without +it." Ellen's appetite needed no silver fork. Tea and pot-pie +were never better liked; yet Miss Janet's enjoyment was +perhaps greater still. She sat talking and looking at her +little visitor with secret but immense satisfaction. + +"Have you heard what fine doings we're a going to have here +by-and-by?" said she. "The doctor's tired of me; he's going to +get a new housekeeper; he's going to get married some of these +days." + +"Is he?" said Ellen. "Not to Jenny?" + +"Yes, indeed he is to Jenny Jenny Hitchcock; and a nice +little wife she'll make him. You're a great friend of Jenny, I +know." + +"How soon?" said Ellen. + +"Oh, not just yet by-and-by after we get a little smarted +up, I guess; before a great while. Don't you think he'll be +a happy man?" + +Ellen could not help wondering, as the doctor just then came +in and she looked up at his unfortunate three-cornered face, +whether Jenny would be a happy woman. But as people often do, +she only judged from the outside; Jenny had not made such a +bad choice after all. + +The doctor said he would go directly to Mr. Van Brunt after he +had been over to Mrs. Sibnorth's; it wouldn't be a minute. +Ellen meant to ride back in his company; and having finished +her dinner, waited now only for him. But the one minute passed + two minutes ten twenty she waited impatiently, but he +came not. + +"I'll tell you how it must be," said his sister, "he's gone +off without his dinner calculating to get it at Miss +Hitchcock's he'd be glad of the chance. That's how it is, +dear; and you'll have to ride home alone; I'm real sorry. +S'pose you stop till evening, and I'll make the doctor go +along with you. But, oh dear! maybe he wouldn't be able to +neither; he's got to go up to that tiresome Mrs. Robin's; it's +too bad. Well, take good care of yourself, darling; couldn't +you stop till it's cooler? well, come and see me as soon as +you can again, but don't come without some one else along! +Good-bye! I wish I could keep you." + +She went to the door to see her mount, and smiled and nodded +her off. + +Ellen was greatly refreshed with her rest and her dinner; it +grieved her that the Brownie had not fared as well. All the +refreshment that kind words and patting could give him, she +gave; promised him the freshest of water, and the sweetest of +hay, when he should reach home; and begged him to keep up his +spirits and hold on for a little longer. It may be doubted +whether the Brownie understood the full sense of her words, +but he probably knew what the kind tones and gentle hand +meant. He answered cheerfully; threw up his head and gave a +little neigh, as much as to say, _he_ wasn't going to mind a few +hours of sunshine; and trotted on as if he knew his face was +towards home which no doubt he did. Luckily it was not a +very hot day; for August, it was remarkably cool and +beautiful; indeed, there was little very hot weather ever +known in Thirlwall. Ellen's heart felt easier, now that her +business was done; and when she had left the town behind her, +and was again in the fields, she was less timid than she had +been before; she was going towards home; that makes a great +difference; and every step was bringing her nearer. "I am glad +I came, after all," she thought; "but I hope I shall never +have to do such a thing again. But I am glad I came." + +She had no more than crossed the little bridge, however, when +she saw what brought her heart into her mouth. It was Mr. +Saunders, lolling under a tree. What could he have come there +for, at that time of day? A vague feeling crossed her mind, +that if she could only get past him she should pass a danger; +she thought to ride by without seeming to see him, and quietly +gave the Brownie a pat to make him go faster. But as she drew +near, Mr. Saunders rose up, came to the middle of the road, +and taking hold of her bridle, checked her pony's pace so that +he could walk alongside to Ellen's unspeakable dismay. + +"What's kept you so long?" said he "I've been looking out +for you this great while. Had hard work to find the doctor?" + +"Won't you please to let go of my horse," said Ellen, her +heart beating very fast "I am in a great hurry to get home +please don't keep me." + +"Oh, I want to see you a little," said Mr. Saunders "you +ain't in such a hurry to get away from me as that comes to, +are you?" + +Ellen was silent. + +"It's quite a long time since I saw you last," said he "how +have the merinoes worn?" + +Ellen could not bear to look at his face, and did not see the +expression which went with these words; yet she _felt_ it. + +"They have worn very well," said she; "but I want to get home +very much _please_ let me go." + +"Not yet, not yet," said he "oh no, not yet. I want to talk +to you; why, what are you in such a devil of a hurry for? I +came out on purpose; do you think I am going to have all my +long waiting for nothing?" + +Ellen did not know what to say, her heart sprang with a +nameless pang to the thought, if she ever got free from this! +Meanwhile she was not free. + +"Whose horse is that you're on?" + +"Mine," said Ellen. + +"Your'n! that's a likely story. I guess he ain't your'n, and +so you won't mind if I touch him up a little; I want to see +how well you can sit on a horse." + +Passing his arm through the bridle as he said these words, Mr. +Saunders led the pony down to the side of the road where grew +a clump of high bushes, and, with some trouble, cut off a +long, stout sapling. Ellen looked in every direction while he +was doing this, despairing, as she looked, of aid from any +quarter of the broad, quiet, open country. Oh, for wings! But +she could not leave the Brownie if she had them. + +Returning to the middle of the road, Mr. Saunders amused +himself, as they walked along, with stripping off all the +leaves and little twigs from his sapling, leaving it, when +done, a very good imitation of an ox-whip in size and length, +with a fine lash-like point. Ellen watched him in an ecstasy +of apprehension, afraid alike to speak or to be silent. + +"There! what do you think of that?" said he, giving it two or +three switches in the air to try its suppleness and toughness; + "don't that look like a whip? Now we'll see how he'll go!" + +"Please don't do anything with it," said Ellen, earnestly "I +never touch him with the whip he doesn't need it he isn't +used to it pray, pray do not!" + +"Oh, we'll just tickle him a little with it," said Mr. +Saunders, coolly "I want to see how well you'll sit him +just make him caper a little bit." + +He accordingly applied the switch lightly to the Brownie's +heels, enough to annoy, without hurting him. The Brownie +showed signs of uneasiness, quitted his quiet pace, and look +to little starts and springs, and whisking motions, most +unpleasing to his rider. + +"Oh, do not!" cried Ellen, almost beside herself "he's very +spirited, and I don't know what he will do if you trouble +him." + +"You let me take care of that," said Mr. Saunders; "if he +troubles me, I'll give it to him! If he rears up, only you +catch hold of his mane and hold on tight, and you won't fall +off; I want to see him rear." + +"But you'll give him bad tricks!" said Ellen. "Oh, pray, don't +do so! It's very bad for him to be teased. I am afraid he will +kick if you do so, and he'd be ruined if he got a habit of +kicking. Oh, _please_ let us go!" said she, with the most acute +accent of entreaty "I want to be home." + +"You keep quiet," said Mr. Saunders, coolly; "if he kicks, +I'll give him such a lathering as he never had yet; he won't +do it but once. I ain't agoing to hurt him, but I am agoing to +make him rear no, I won't I'll make him leap over a rail, +the first bar-place we come to that'll be prettier." + +"Oh, you mustn't do that." said Ellen "I have not learned to +leap yet I couldn't keep on you musn't do that if you +please." + +"You just hold fast, and hold your tongue. Catch hold of his +ears, and you'll stick on fast enough; if you can't, you may +get down, for I am going to make him take the leap, whether +you will or no." + +Ellen feared still more to get off and leave the Brownie to +her tormentor's mercy, than to stay where she was, and take +her chance. She tried in vain, as well as she could, to soothe +her horse; the touches of the whip coming now in one place, +and now in another, and some of them pretty sharp, he began to +grow very frisky indeed; and she began to be very much +frightened, for fear she should suddenly be jerked off. With a +good deal of presence of mind, though wrought up to a terrible +pitch of excitement and fear, Ellen gave her best attention to +keeping her seat as the Brownie sprang, and started, and +jumped, to one side and the other; Mr. Saunders holding the +bridle as loose as possible, so as give him plenty of room. +For some little time he amused himself with this game, the +horse growing more and more irritated. At length a smart +stroke of the whip upon his haunches, made the Brownie spring +in a way that brought Ellen's heart into her mouth and almost +threw her off. + +"Oh, don't!" cried Ellen, bursting into tears for the first +time she had with great effort commanded them back until +now; "poor Brownie! How can you! Oh, please let us go! +please let us go!" + +For one minute she dropped her face in her hands. + +"Be quiet!" said Mr. Saunders. "Here's a bar-place now for +the leap!" + +Ellen wiped away her tears, forced back those that were +coming, and began the most earnest remonstrance and pleading +with Mr. Saunders that she knew how to make. He paid her no +sort of attention. He led the Brownie to the side of the road, +let down all the bars but the lower two, let go the bridle, +and stood a little off, prepared with his whip to force the +horse to take the spring. + +"I tell you I shall fall," said Ellen, reining him back. "How +can you be so cruel! I want to go home!" + +"Well, you ain't agoing home yet. Get off, if you are afraid." + +But, though trembling in every nerve from head to foot, Ellen +fancied the Brownie was safer so long as he had her on his +back; she would not leave him. She pleaded her best, which Mr. +Saunders heard as if it was amusing, and without making any +answer, kept the horse capering in front of the bars, +pretending every minute he was going to whip him up to take +the leap. His object, however, was merely to gratify the +smallest of minds by teasing a child he had a spite against; +he had no intention to risk breaking her bones by a fall from +her horse; so in time he had enough of the bar-place; took the +bridle again, and walked on. Ellen drew breath a little more +freely. + +"Did you hear how I handled your old gentleman after that +time?" said Mr. Saunders. + +Ellen made no answer. + +"No one ever affronts me that don't hear news of it +afterwards, and so he found to his cost. _I_ paid him off, to my +heart's content. I gave the old fellow a lesson to behave in +future. I forgive him now entirely. By the way, I've a little +account to settle with you didn't you ask Mr. Perriman this +morning if Dr. Gibson was in the house?" + +"I don't know who it was," said Ellen. + +"Well, hadn't I told you just before he warn't there?" + +Ellen was silent. + +"What did you do that for, eh? Didn't you believe me?" + +Still she did not speak. + +"I say!" said Mr. Saunders, touching the Brownie as he spoke +"did you think I told you a lie about it? eh?" + +"I didn't know but he might be there," Ellen forced herself to +say. + +"Then you didn't believe me?" said he, always with that same +smile upon his face; Ellen knew that. + +"Now that warn't handsome of you and I'm agoing to punish +you for it, somehow or 'nother; but it ain't pretty to quarrel +with ladies, so Brownie and me'll settle it together. You +won't mind that, I dare say." + +"What are you going to do?" said Ellen, as he once more drew +her down to the side of the fence. + +"Get off and you'll see," said he, laughing "get off and +you'll see." + +"What do you want to do?" repeated Ellen, though scarce able +to speak the words. + +"I'm just going to tickle Brownie a little, to teach you to +believe honest folks when they speak the truth; get off!" + +"No, I won't," said Ellen, throwing both arms round the neck +of her pony; "poor Brownie! you shan't do it. He hasn't +done any harm, nor I either; you are a bad man!" + +"Get off!" repeated Mr. Saunders. + +"I will not!" said Ellen, still clinging fast. + +"Very well," said he, coolly "then I will take you off; it +don't make much difference. We'll go along a little further +till I find a nice stone for you to sit down upon. If you had +got off then, I wouldn't ha' done much to him, but I'll give +it to him now! If he hasn't been used to a whip he'll know +pretty well what it means by the time I have done with him; +and then you may go home as fast as you can." + +It is very likely Mr. Saunders would have been as good, or as +bad, as his word. His behaviour to Ellen in the store at New +York, and the measures taken by the old gentleman who had +befriended her, had been the cause of his dismissal from the +employ of Messrs. St. Clair and Fleury. Two or three other +attempts to get into business had come to nothing, and he had +been obliged to return to his native town. Ever since, Ellen +and the old gentleman had lived in his memory as objects of +the deepest spite, the one for interfering, the other for +having been the innocent cause; and he no sooner saw her in +the post-office, than he promised himself revenge, such +revenge as only the meanest and most cowardly spirit could +have taken pleasure in. His best way of distressing Ellen, he +found, was through her horse; he had almost satisfied himself; +but very naturally his feeling of spite had grown stronger and +blunter with indulgence, and he meant to wind up with such a +treatment of her pony, real or seeming, as he knew would give +great pain to the pony's mistress. He was prevented. + +As they went slowly along, Ellen still clasping the Brownie's +neck, and resolved to cling to him to the last, Mr. Saunders +making him caper in a way very uncomfortable to her, one was +too busy, and the other too deafened by fear, to notice the +sound of fast-approaching hoofs behind them. It happened that +John Humphreys had passed the night at Ventnor; and having an +errand to do for a friend at Thirlwall, had taken that road, +which led him but a few miles out of his way, and was now at +full speed on his way home. He had never made the Brownie's +acquaintance, and did not recognise Ellen as he came up; but +in passing them, some strange notion crossing his mind he +wheeled his horse round directly in front of the astonished +pair. Ellen quitted her pony's neck, and stretching out both +arms towards him, exclaimed, almost shrieked, "Oh, John! John! +send him away! make him let me go!" + +"What are you about, Sir?" said the new-comer, sternly. + +"It's none of your business!" answered Mr. Saunders, in whom +rage for the time overcame cowardice. + +"Take your hand off the bridle!" with a slight touch of the +riding-whip upon the hand in question. + +"Not for you, brother," said Mr. Saunders, sneeringly; "I'll +walk with any lady I've a mind to. Look out for yourself!" + +"We will dispense with your further attendance," said John, +coolly. "Do you hear me? do as I order you!" + +The speaker did not put himself in a passion, and Mr. +Saunders, accustomed for his own part to make bluster serve +instead of prowess, despised a command so calmly given. Ellen, +who knew the voice, and still better could read the eye, drew +conclusions very different. She was almost breathless with +terror. Saunders was enraged and mortified at an interference +that promised to baffle him; he was a stout young man, and +judged himself the stronger of the two, and took notice, +besides, that the stranger had nothing in his hand but a +slight riding-whip. He answered very insolently, and with an +oath; and John saw that he was taking the bridle in his left +hand and shifting his sapling whip so as to bring the club end +of it uppermost. The next instant he aimed a furious blow at +his adversary's horse. The quick eye and hand of the rider +disappointed that with a sudden swerve. In another moment +and Ellen hardly saw how, it was so quick John had +dismounted, taken Mr. Saunders by the collar, and hurled him +quite over into the gulley at the side of the road, where he +lay at full length without stirring. + +"Ride on, Ellen!" said her deliverer. + +She obeyed. He stayed a moment to say to his fallen adversary +a few words of pointed warning as to ever repeating his +offence; then remounted and spurred forward to join Ellen. All +her power of keeping up was gone, now that the necessity was +over. Her head was once more bowed on her pony's neck, her +whole frame shaking with convulsive sobs; she could scarce +with great effort keep from crying out aloud. + +"Ellie!" said her adopted brother, in a voice that could +hardly be known for the one that had last spoken. She had no +words, but as he gently took one of her hands, the convulsive +squeeze it gave him showed the state of nervous excitement she +was in. It was very long before his utmost efforts could +soothe her, or she could command herself enough to tell him +her story. When at last told, it was with many tears. + +"Oh, how could he! how could he!" said poor Ellen "how could +he do so! it was very hard!" + +An involuntary touch of the spurs made John's horse start. + +"But what took you to Thirlwall alone?" said he "you have +not told me that yet." + +Ellen went back to Timothy's invasion of the cabbages, and +gave him the whole story of the morning. + +"I thought when I was going for the doctor, at first," said +she, "and then afterwards when I had found him, what a good +thing it was that Timothy broke down the garden fence and got +in this morning; for if it had not been for that, I should not +have gone to Mr. Van Brunt's and then again, after that I +thought, if he only hadn't!" + +"Little things often draw after them long trains of +circumstances," said John "and that shows the folly of those +people who think that God does not stoop to concern himself +about trifles; life, and much more than life, may hang upon +the turn of a hand. But, Ellen, you must ride no more alone. +Promise me that you will not." + +"I will not to Thirlwall, certainly," said Ellen "but mayn't +I to Alice's? how can I help it?" + +"Well to Alice's that is a safe part of the country; but I +should like to know a little more of your horse before +trusting you even there." + +"Of the Brownie?" said Ellen "oh, he is as good as he can +be; you need not be afraid of him; he has no trick at all; +there never was such a good little horse." + +John smiled. "How do you like mine?" said he. + +"Is that your new one? Oh, what a beauty! Oh me, what a +beauty! I didn't look at him before. Oh, I like him very much! +he's handsomer than the Brownie do you like him?" + +"Very well! this is the first trial I have made of him. I +was at Mr. Marshman's last night, and they detained me this +morning, or I should have been here much earlier. I am very +well satisfied with him, so far." + +"And if you had _not_ been detained!" said Ellen. + +"Yes, Ellie I should not have fretted at my late breakfast +and having to try Mr. Marshman's favourite mare, if I had +known what good purpose the delay was to serve. I wish I could +have been here half an hour sooner, though." + +"Is his name the Black Prince?" said Ellen, returning to the +horse. + +"Yes, I believe so; but you shall change it, Ellie, if you can +find one you like better." + +"Oh, I cannot! I like that very much. How beautiful he is! +Is he good?" + +"I hope so," said John, smiling "if he is not, I shall be at +the pains to make him so. We are hardly acquainted yet." + +Ellen looked doubtfully at the black horse and his rider, and +patting the Brownie's neck, observed with great satisfaction +that he was very good. + +John had been riding very slowly on Ellen's account; they now +mended their pace. He saw, however, that she still looked +miserably, and exerted himself to turn her thoughts from +everything disagreeable. Much to her amusement, he rode round +her two or three times, to view her horse and show her his +own; commended the Brownie; praised her bridle hand; corrected +several things about her riding; and by degrees engaged her in +a very animated conversation. Ellen roused up; the colour came +back to her cheeks; and when they reached home, and rode round +to the glass door, she looked almost like herself. + +She sprang off as usual without waiting for any help. John +scarce saw that she had done so, when Alice's cry of joy +brought him to the door, and from that together they went in +to their father's study. Ellen was left alone on the lawn. +Something was the matter; for she stood with swimming eyes and +a trembling lip, rubbing her stirrup, which really needed no +polishing, and forgetting the tired horses, which would have +had her sympathy at any other time. What was the matter? Only + that Mr. John had forgotten the kiss he always gave her on +going or coming. Ellen was jealous of it as a pledge of +sistership, and could not want it; and though she tried as +hard as she could to get her face in order, so that she might +go in and meet them, somehow it seemed to take a great while. +She was still busy with her stirrup, when she suddenly felt +two hands on her shoulders, and looking up, received the very +kiss the want of which she had been lamenting. But John saw +the tears in her eyes, and asked her, she thought with +somewhat a comical look, what the matter was. Ellen was +ashamed to tell, but he had her there by the shoulders, and +besides, whatever that eye demanded, she never knew how to +keep back; so with some difficulty she told him. + +"You are very foolish child, Ellie," said he, gently, and +kissing her again. "Run in out of the sun, while I see to the +horses." + +Ellen ran in, and told her long story to Alice; and then, +feeling very weary and weak, she sat on the sofa, and lay +resting in her arms in a state of the most entire and +unruffled happiness. Alice, however, after a while, +transferred her to bed, thinking, with good reason, that a +long sleep would be the best thing for her. + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. + +Halcyon days. + + +When Ellen came out of Alice's room again, it was late in the +afternoon. The sun was so low that the shadow of the house had +crossed the narrow lawn and mounted up near to the top of the +trees; but on them he was still shining brightly, and on the +broad landscape beyond, which lay open to view through the gap +in the trees. The glass door was open; the sweet summer air +and the sound of birds and insects and fluttering leaves +floated into the room, making the stillness musical. On the +threshold pussy sat crouched, with his forefeet doubled under +his breast, watching, with intense gravity, the operations of +Margery, who was setting the table on the lawn, just before +his eyes. Alice was paring peaches. + +"Oh, we are going to have tea out of doors, aren't we!" said +Ellen. "I'm very glad. What a lovely evening! isn't it? Just +look at pussy, will you, Alice? don't you believe he knows +what Margery is doing? Why didn't you call me to go along with +you after peaches?" + +"I thought you were doing the very best thing you possibly +could, Ellie, my dear. How do you do?" + +"Oh, nicely now! where's Mr. John? I hope he won't ask for my +last drawing to-night; I want to fix the top of that tree +before he sees it." + +"_Fix_ the top of your tree, you little Yankee!" said Alice; +"what do you think John would say to that? _un_fix it, you +mean; it is too stiff already, isn't it?" + +"Well, what _shall_ I say?" said Ellen, laughing. "I am sorry +that is Yankee, for I suppose one must speak English. I want +to do something to my tree, then. Where is he, Alice?" + +"He is gone down to Mr. Van Brunt's, to see how he is, and to +speak to Miss Fortune about you on his way back." + +"Oh, how kind of him! he's _very_ good; that is just what I +want to know; but I am sorry, after this long ride " + +"He don't mind _that_, Ellie. He'll be home presently." + +"How nice those peaches look! they are as good as strawberries + don't you think so? better I don't know which is best +but Mr. John likes these best, don't he? Now you've done +shall I set them on the table? and here's a pitcher of +splendid cream, Alice!" + +"You had better not tell John so, or he will make you define +_splendid_." + +John came back in good time, and brought word that Mr. Van +Brunt was doing very well, so far as could be known; also, +that Miss Fortune consented to Ellen's remaining where she +was. He wisely did not say, however, that her consent had been +slow to gain, till he had hinted at his readiness to provide a +substitute for Ellen's services; on which Miss Fortune had +instantly declared she did not want her, and she might stay as +long as she pleased. This was all that was needed to complete +Ellen's felicity. + +"Wasn't your poor horse too tired to go out again this +afternoon, Mr. John?" + +"I did not ride him, Ellie; I took yours." + +"The Brownie! did you? I'm very glad! How did you like +him? But perhaps _he_ was tired a little, and you couldn't tell +so well to-day." + +"He was not tired with any work you had given him, Ellie +perhaps he may be a little, now." + +"Why?" said Ellen, somewhat alarmed. + +"I have been trying him; and instead of going quietly along +the road, we have been taking some of the fences in our way. +As I intend practising you at the bar, I wished to make sure, +in the first place, that he knew his lesson." + +"Well, how did he do?" + +"Perfectly well I believe he is a good little fellow. I +wanted to satisfy myself if he was fit to be trusted with you; +and I rather think Mr. Marshman has taken care of that." + +The whole wall of trees was in shadow when the little family +sat down to table; but there was still the sunlit picture +behind; and there was another kind of sunshine in every face +at the table. Quietly happy the whole four, or at least the +whole three, were first, in being together after that, in +all things beside. Never was tea so refreshing, or bread and +butter so sweet, or the song of birds so delightsome. When the +birds were gone to their nests, the cricket and grasshopper, +and tree-toad and katydid, and nameless other songsters, kept +up a concert nature's own in delicious harmony with woods +and flowers, and summer breezes and evening light. Ellen's cup +of enjoyment was running over. From one beautiful thing to +another her eye wandered from one joy to another her +thoughts went till her full heart fixed on the God who had +made and given them all, and that Redeemer whose blood had +been their purchase-money. From the dear friends beside her, +the best loved she had in the world, she thought of the one +dearer, yet from whom death had separated her; yet living +still and to whom death would restore her, thanks to Him who +had burst the bonds of death, and broken the gates of the +grave, and made a way for his ransomed to pass over. And the +thought of Him was the joyfullest of all. + +"You look happy, Ellie," said her adopted brother. + +"So I am," said Ellen, smiling a very bright smile. + +"What are you thinking about?" + +But John saw it would not do to press his question. + +"You remind me," said he, "of some old fairy story that my +childish ears received, in which the fountains of the sweet +and bitter waters of life were said to stand very near each +other, and to mingle their streams but a little way from their +source. Your tears and smiles seem to be brothers and sisters; +whenever we see one we may be sure the other is not far off." + +"My dear Jack," said Alice, laughing "what an unhappy +simile! Are brothers and sisters always found like that?" + +"I wish they were," said John, sighing and smiling; "but my +last words had nothing to do with my simile, as you call it." + +When tea was over, and Margery had withdrawn the things, and +taken away the table, they still lingered in their places. It +was far too pleasant to go in. Mr. Humphreys moved his chair +to the side of the house, and throwing a handkerchief over his +head to defend him from the mosquitoes, a few of which were +buzzing about, he either listened, meditated, or slept; most +probably one of the two latter, for the conversation was not +very loud nor very lively; it was happiness enough merely to +breathe so near each other. The sun left the distant fields +and hills; soft twilight stole through the woods, down the +gap, and over the plain; the grass lost its green; the wall of +trees grew dark and dusky; and very faint and dim showed the +picture that was so bright a little while ago. As they sat +quite silent, listening to what nature had to say to them, or +letting fancy and memory take their way, the silence was +broken hardly broken by the distinct far-off cry of a +whip-poor-will. Alice grasped her brother's arm, and they +remained motionless, while it came nearer, nearer, then quite +near, with its clear, wild, shrill, melancholy note sounding +close by them again and again strangely, plaintively then +leaving the lawn, it was heard further and further off, till +the last faint "whip-poor-will," in the far distance, ended +its pretty interlude. It was almost too dark to read faces, +but the eyes of the brother and sister had sought each other, +remained fixed till the bird was out of hearing; then Alice's +hand was removed to his, and her head found its old place on +her brother's shoulder. + +"Sometimes, John," said Alice, "I am afraid I have one tie too +strong to this world. I cannot bear as I ought to have you +away from me." + +Her brother's lips were instantly pressed to her forehead. + +"I may say to you, Alice, as Colonel Gardiner said to his +wife, 'we have an eternity to spend together!' " + +"I wonder," said Alice, after a pause, "how those can bear to +love or be loved, whose affection can see nothing but a blank +beyond the grave." + +"Few people, I believe," said her brother, "would come exactly +under that description; most flatter themselves with a vague +hope of reunion after death." + +"But that is a miserable hope very different from ours." + +"Very different indeed! and miserable; for it can only +deceive; but ours is sure. 'Them that sleep in Jesus will God +bring with him.' " + +"Precious!" said Alice. "How exactly fitted to every want and +mood of the mind are the sweet Bible words!" + +"Well!" said Mr. Humphreys, rousing himself "I am going in! +These musquitoes have half eaten me up. Are you going to sit +there all night?" + +"We are thinking of it, Papa," said Alice, cheerfully. + +He went in, and was heard calling Margery for a liglit. + +They had better lights on the lawn. The stars began to peep +out through the soft blue, and as the blue grew deeper, they +came out more and brighter, till all heaven was hung with +lamps. But that was not all. In the eastern horizon, just +above the low hills that bordered the far side of the plain, a +white light, spreading, and growing, and brightening, promised +the moon, and promised that she would rise very splendid; and +even before she came, began to throw a faint lustre over the +landscape. All eyes were fastened and exclamations burst, as +the first silver edge showed itself, and the moon, rapidly +rising, looked on them with her whole, broad, bright face: +lighting up not only their faces and figures, but the wide +country view that was spread out below, and touching most +beautifully the trees in the edge of the gap, and faintly the +lawn; while the wall of wood stood in deeper and blacker +shadow than ever. + +"Isn't that beautiful!" said Ellen. + +"Come round here, Ellie," said John; "Alice may have you all +the rest of the year, but when I am at home you belong to me. +What was your little head busied upon a while ago?" + +"When?" said Ellen. + +"When I asked you " + +"Oh, I know I remember. I was thinking " + +"Well?" + +"I was thinking do you want me to tell you?" + +"Unless you would rather not." + +"I was thinking about Jesus Christ," said Ellen, in a low +tone. + +"What about him, dear Ellie?" said her brother, drawing her +closer to his side. + +"Different things; I was thinking of what he said about +little children; and about what he said, you know 'In my +Father's house are many mansions;' and I was thinking that +Mamma was there: and I thought that we all " + +Ellen could get no further. + +" 'He that believeth in him shall not be ashamed,' " said +John, softly. " 'This is the promise that he hath promised us, +even eternal life; and who shall separate us from the love of +Christ? Not death, nor things present, nor things to come. But +he that hath this hope in him, purifieth himself, even as he +is pure;' let us remember that too." + +"Mr. John," said Ellen, presently "don't you like some of +the chapters in the Revelation very much?" + +"Yes very much. Why? do you?" + +"Yes. I remember reading parts of them to Mamma, and that is +one reason, I suppose; but I like them very much. There is a +great deal I can't understand, though." + +"There is nothing finer in the Bible than parts of that book," +said Alice. + +"Mr. John," said Ellen "what is meant by the 'white stone?' +" + +" 'And in the stone a new name written?' " + +"Yes that I mean." + +"Mr. Baxter says it is the sense of God's love in the heart; +and, indeed, that is it 'which no man knoweth saving him that +receiveth it.' This, I take it, Ellen, was Christian's +certificate, which he used to comfort himself with reading in, +you remember?" + + +"Can a child have it?" said Ellen, thoughtfully. + +"Certainly many children have had it you may have it. Only +seek it faithfully. 'Thou meetest him that rejoiceth and +worketh righteousness, those that remember thee in thy ways.' + And Christ said, 'He that loveth me shall be loved of my +Father, and I will love him, and I will manifest myself to +him.' There is no failure in these promises, Ellie; he that +made them is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever." + +For a little while each was busy with his own meditations. The +moon, meanwhile, rising higher and higher, poured a flood of +light through the gap in the woods before them, and stealing +among the trees, here and there, lit up a spot of ground under +their deep shadow. The distant picture lay in mazy brightness. +All was still, but the ceaseless chirrup of insects, and +gentle flapping of leaves; the summer air just touched their +cheeks with the lightest breath of a kiss, sweet from distant +hayfields, and nearer pines and hemlocks, and other of +nature's numberless perfume boxes. The hay harvest had been +remarkably late this year. + +"This is higher enjoyment," said John, "than half those who +make their homes in rich houses and mighty palaces have any +notion of." + +"But can not rich people look at the moon?" said Ellen. + +"Yes, but the taste for pure pleasures is commonly gone, when +people make a trade of pleasure." + +"Mr. John" Ellen began. + +"I will forewarn you," said he, "that Mr. John has made up his +mind he will do nothing more for you. So if you have anything +to ask, it must lie still unless you will begin again." + +Ellen drew back. He looked grave, but she saw Alice smiling. + +"But what shall I do?" said she, a little perplexed, and half- +laughing. "What do you mean, Mr. John? What does he mean, +Alice?" + +"You could speak without a 'Mr.' to me this morning, when you +were in trouble." + +"Oh," said Ellen laughing, "I forgot myself then." + +"Have the goodness to forget yourself permanently for the +future." + +"Was that man hurt this morning, John?" said his sister. + +"What man?" + +"That man you delivered Ellen from." + +"Hurt? no nothing material; I did not wish to hurt him. He +richly deserved punishment, but it was not for me to give it." + +"He was in no hurry to get up," said Ellen. + +"I do not think he ventured upon that till we were well out of +the way. He lifted his head and looked after us as we rode +off." + +"But I wanted to ask something," said Ellen "oh what is +the reason the moon looks so much larger when she first gets +up, than she does afterwards?" + +"Whom are you asking?" + +"You." + +"And who is you? Here are two people in the moonlight." + +"Mr. John Humphreys, Alice's brother, and that Thomas calls +'the young master,' " said Ellen, laughing. + +"You are more shy of taking a leap than your little horse is," +said John, smiling; "but I shall bring you up to it yet. What +is the cause of the sudden enlargement of my thumb?" + +He had drawn a small magnifying-glass from his pocket, and +held it between his hand and Ellen. + +"Why, it is not enlarged," said Ellen "it is only +magnified." + +"What do you mean by that?" + +"Why, the glass makes it look larger." + +"Do you know how, or why?" + +"No." + +He put up the glass again. + +"But what do you mean by that?" said Ellen, "there is no +magnifying-glass between us and the moon to make _her_ look +larger." + +"You are sure of that?" + +"Why, yes," said Ellen, "I am perfectly sure; there is nothing +in the world. There she is, right up there, looking straight +down upon us, and there is nothing between." + +"What is it that keeps up that pleasant fluttering of leaves +in the wood?" + +"Why, the wind." + +"And what is the wind?" + +"It is air air moving, I suppose." + +"Exactly. Then there _is_ something between us and the moon?" + +"The air? But, Mr. John, one can see quite clearly through the +air; it doesn't make things look larger or smaller." + +"How far do you suppose the air reaches from us towards the +moon?" + +"Why, all the way don't it?" + +"No only about forty miles. If it reached all the way, there +would indeed be no magnifying-glass in the case." + +"But how is it?" said Ellen. "I don't understand." + +"I cannot tell you to-night, Ellie. There is a long ladder of +knowledge to go up before we can get to the moon, but we will +begin to mount to-morrow, if nothing happens. Alice, you have +that little book of _Conversations on Natural Philosophy_, which +you and I used to delight ourselves with in old time." + +"Safe and sound in the book-case," said Alice. "I have thought +of giving it to Ellen before, but she has been busy enough +with what she had already." + +"I have done Rollin, now, though," said Ellen; "that is lucky, +I am ready for the moon." + +This new study was begun the next day, and Ellen took great +delight in it. She would have run on too fast in her +eagerness, but for the steady hand of her teacher; he obliged +her to be very thorough. This was only one of her items of +business. The weeks of John's stay were, as usual, not merely +weeks of constant and varied delight, but of constant and +swift improvement too. + +A good deal of time was given to the riding-lessons. John +busied himself one morning in preparing a bar for her on the +lawn, so placed that it might fall if the horse's heels +touched it. Here Ellen learned to take first standing, and +then running leaps. She was afraid at first, but habit wore +that off; and the bar was raised higher and higher, till +Margery declared she "couldn't stand and look at her going +over it." Then John made her ride without the stirrup, and +with her hands behind her, while he, holding the horse by a +long halter, made him go round in a circle, slowly at first, +and afterwards trotting and cantering, till Ellen felt almost +as secure on his back as in a chair. It took a good many +lessons, however, to bring her to this, and she trembled very +much at the beginning. Her teacher was careful and gentle, but +determined; and whatever he said she did, tremble or no +tremble; and, in general, loved her riding lessons dearly. + +Drawing, too, went on finely. He began to let her draw things +from nature; and many a pleasant morning the three went out +together with pencils and books and work, and spent hours in +the open air. They would find a pretty point of view, or a +nice shady place where the breeze came, and where there was +some good old rock with a tree beside it, or a piece of fence, +or the house or barn in the distance, for Ellen to sketch; and +while she drew and Alice worked, John read aloud to them. +Sometimes he took a pencil too, and Alice read; and often, +often, pencils, books, and work were all laid down; and talk +lively, serious, earnest, always delightful took the place +of them. When Ellen could not understand the words, at least +she could read the faces; and that was a study she was never +weary of. At home there were other studies and much reading; +many tea-drinkings on the lawn, and even breakfastings, which +she thought pleasanter still. + +As soon as it was decided that Mr. Van Brunt's leg was doing +well, and in a fair way to be sound again, Ellen went to see +him; and after that rarely let two days pass without going +again. John and Alice used to ride with her so far, and taking +a turn beyond while she made her visit, call for her on their +way back. She had a strong motive for going in the pleasure +her presence always gave, both to Mr. Van Brunt and his +mother. Sam Larkens had been to Thirlwall and seen Mrs. +Forbes, and from him they had heard the story of her riding up +and down the town in search of the doctor; neither of them +could forget it. Mrs. Van Brunt poured out her affection in +all sorts of expressions whenever she had Ellen's ear; her son +was not a man of many words; but Ellen knew his face and +manner well enough without them, and read there, whenever she +went into his room, what gave her great pleasure. + +"How do you do, Mr. Van Brunt?" she said, on one of these +occasions. + +"Oh, I'm getting along, I s'pose," said he "getting along as +well as a man can that's lying on his back from morning to +night; prostrated, as Squire Dennison said his corn was +t'other day." + +"It is very tiresome, isn't it?" said Ellen. + +"It's the tiresomest work that ever was, for a man that has +two arms to be a-doing nothing, day after day. And what +bothers me is the wheat in the ten-acre lot, that _ought_ to be +prostrated too, and ain't, nor ain't like to be, as I know, +unless the rain comes and does it. Sam and Johnny'll make no +headway at all with it I can tell as well as if I see 'em." + +"But Sam is good, isn't he?" said Ellen. + +"Sam's as good a boy as ever was; but then Johnny Low is +mischievous, you see, and he gets Sam out of his tracks once +in a while. I never see a finer growth of wheat. I had a sight +rather cut and harvest the hull of it than to lie here and +think of it getting spoiled. I'm a'most out o' conceit o' +trap-doors, Ellen." + +Ellen could not help smiling. + +"What can I do for you, Mr. Van Brunt?" + +"There ain't nothing," said he; "I wish there was. How are +you coming along at home?" + +"I don't know," said Ellen "I am not there just now, you +know; I am staying up with Miss Alice again." + +"Oh, ay! while her brother's at home. He's a splendid man, +that young Mr. Humphreys, ain't he?" + +"Oh, _I_ knew that a great while ago," said Ellen, the bright +colour of pleasure overspreading her face. + +"Well, _I_ didn't, you see, till the other day, when he came +here, very kindly, to see how I was getting on. I wish +something would bring him again. I never heerd a man talk I +liked to hear so much." + +Ellen secretly resolved something _should_ bring him; and went +on with a purpose she had had for some time in her mind. + +"Wouldn't it be pleasant, while you are lying there and can do +nothing wouldn't you like to have me read something to you, +Mr. Van Brunt? _I_ should like to, very much." + +"It's just like you," said he, gratefully "to think of that; +but I wouldn't have you be bothered with it." + +"It wouldn't, indeed. I should like it very much." + +"Well, if you've a mind," said he "I can't say but it would +be a kind o' comfort to keep that grain out o' my head a +while. Seems to me I have cut and housed it all three times +over already. Read just whatever you have a mind to. If you +was to go over a last year's almanac it would be as good as a +fiddle to me." + +"I'll do better for you than that, Mr. Van Brunt," said Ellen, +laughing in high glee at having gained her point. She had +secretly brought her _Pilgrim's Progress_ with her, and now with +marvellous satisfaction drew it forth. + +"I han't been as much of a reader as I had ought to," said Mr. +Van Brunt, as she opened the book and turned to the first +page; "but, however, I understand my business pretty well; and +a man can't be everything to once. Now let's hear what you've +got there." + +With a throbbing heart, Ellen began; and read, notes and all, +till the sound of tramping hoofs and Alice's voice made her +break off. It encouraged and delighted her to see that Mr. Van +Brunt's attention was perfectly fixed. He lay still, without +moving his eyes from her face, till she stopped; then thanking +her, he declared that was a "first-rate book," and he "should +like mainly to hear the hull on it." + +From that time Ellen was diligent in her attendance on him. +That she might have more time for reading than the old plan +gave her, she set off by herself alone some time before the +others, of course riding home with them. It cost her a little, +sometimes, to forego so much of their company; but she never +saw the look of grateful pleasure with which she was welcomed +without ceasing to regret her self-denial. How Ellen blessed +those notes as she went on with her reading! They said exactly +what she wanted Mr. Van Brunt to hear, and in the best way, +and were too short and simple to interrupt the interest of the +story. After a while she ventured to ask if she might read him +a chapter in the Bible. He agreed very readily; owning "he +hadn't ought to be so long without reading one as he had +been." Ellen then made it a rule to herself, without asking +any more questions, to end every reading with a chapter in the +Bible; and she carefully sought out those that might be most +likely to take hold of his judgment or feelings. They took +hold of her own very deeply, by the means; what was strong or +tender, before, now seemed to her too mighty to be withstood; +and Ellen read not only with her lips, but with her whole +heart, the precious words, longing that they might come with +their just effect upon Mr. Van Brunt's mind. + +Once as she finished reading the tenth chapter of John, a +favourite chapter, which, between her own feeling of it, and +her strong wish for him, had moved her even to tears, she cast +a glance at his face to see how he took it. His head was a +little turned to one side, and his eyes closed; she thought he +was asleep. Ellen was very much disappointed. She sank her +head upon her book, and prayed that a time might come when he +would know the worth of those words. The touch of his hand +startled her. + +"What is the matter?" said he. "Are you tired?" + +"No," said Ellen, looking hastily up; "oh, no I'm not +tired." + +"But what ails you?" said the astonished Mr. Van Brunt; "what +have you been a-crying for? what's the matter?" + +"Oh, never mind," said Ellen, brushing her hand over her eyes + "it's no matter." + +"Yes, but I want to know," said Mr. Van Brunt; "you shan't +have anything to vex you that _I_ can help; what is it?" + +"It is nothing, Mr. Van Brunt," said Ellen, bursting into +tears again "only I thought you were asleep I I thought +you didn't care enough about the Bible to keep awake I want +_so_ much that you should be a Christian!" + +He half groaned, and turned his head away. + +"What makes you wish that so much?" said he, after a minute or +two. + +"Because I want you to be happy," said Ellen "and I know you +can't without." + +"Well, I am pretty tolerable happy," said he; "as happy as +most folks, I guess." + +"But I want you to be happy when you die, too," said Ellen +"I want to meet you in heaven" + +"I hope I will go there, surely," said he, gravely "when the +time comes." + +Ellen was uneasily silent, not knowing what to say. + +"I ain't as good as I ought to be," said he presently, with a +half sigh: "I ain't good enough to go to heaven I wish I +was. _You_ are, I do believe." + +"I! Oh no, Mr. Van Brunt, do not say that; I am not good at +all I am full of wrong things." + +"Well, I wish I was full of wrong things, too, in the same +way," said he. + +"But I am," said Ellen "whether you will believe it or not. +Nobody is good, Mr. Van Brunt. But Jesus Christ has died for +us, and if we ask him, he will forgive us, and wash away our +sins, and teach us to love him, and make us good, and take us +to be with him in heaven. Oh! I wish you would ask him!" she +repeated, with an earnestness that went to his heart. "I don't +believe any one can be very happy that doesn't love him." + +"Is that what makes _you_ happy?" said he. + +"I have a great many things to make me happy," said Ellen, +soberly "but that is the greatest of all. It always makes me +happy to think of him, and it makes everything else a thousand +times pleasanter. I wish you knew how it is, Mr. Van Brunt!" + +He was silent for a little, and disturbed, Ellen thought. + +"Well!" said he at length " 'taint the folks that thinks +themselves the best that _is_ the best always if you ain't +good, I should like to know what goodness is. _There's_ somebody +that thinks you be," said he, a minute or two afterwards, as +the horses were heard coming to the gate, + +"No, she knows me better than that," said Ellen. + +"It isn't any _she_ that I mean," said Mr. Van Brunt. "There's +somebody else out there, ain't there?" + +"Who?" said Ellen "Mr. John? Oh no, indeed he don't. It was +only this morning he was telling me of something I did that +was wrong." Her eyes watered as she spoke. + +"He must have mighty sharp eyes, then," said Mr. Van Brunt +"for it beats all _my_ powers of seeing things." + +"And so he has," said Ellen, putting on her bonnet; "he always +knows what I am thinking of just as well as if I told him. +Good-bye!" + +"Good-bye," said he "I han't forgotten what you've been +saying, and I don't mean to." + +How full of sweet pleasure was the ride home! + +The "something wrong," of which Ellen had spoken, was this. +The day before, it happened that Mr. John had broken her off +from a very engaging book to take her drawing lesson; and as +he stooped down to give a touch or two to the piece she was to +copy, he said, "I don't want you to read any more of that, +Ellie; it is not a good book for you." Ellen did not for a +moment question that he was right, nor wish to disobey; but +she had become very much interested, and was a good deal +annoyed at having such a sudden stop put to her pleasure. She +said nothing, and went on with her work. In a little while +Alice asked her to hold a skein of cotton for her while she +wound it. Ellen was annoyed again at the interruption; the +harpstrings were jarring yet, and gave fresh discord to every +touch. She had, however, no mind to let her vexation be seen; +she went immediately and held the cotton, and, as soon as it +was done, set down again to her drawing. Before ten minutes +had passed, Margery came to set the table for dinner; Ellen's +papers and desk must move. + +"Why, it is not dinner-time yet, this great while, Margery," +said she "it isn't much after twelve." + +"No, Miss Ellen," said Margery, under her breath, for John was +in one corner of the room reading "but by-and-by I'll be busy +with the chops and frying the salsify, and I couldn't leave +the kitchen if you'll let me have the table now." + +Ellen said no more, and moved her things to a stand before the +window, where she went on with her copying till dinner was +ready. Whatever the reason was, however, her pencil did not +work smoothly; her eye did not see true; and she lacked her +usual steady patience. The next morning, after an hour and +more's work and much painstaking, the drawing was finished. +Ellen had quite forgotten her yesterday's trouble. But when +John came to review her drawing, he found several faults with +it; pointed out two or three places in which it had suffered +from haste and want of care; and asked her how it had +happened. Ellen knew it happened yesterday. She was vexed +again, though she did her best not to show it; she stood +quietly and heard what he had to say. He then told her to get +ready for her riding lesson. + +"Mayn't I just make this right first?" said Ellen "it won't +take me long." + +"No," said he; "you have been sitting long enough; I must +break you off. The Brownie will be here in ten minutes." + +Ellen was impatiently eager to mend the bad places in her +drawing, and impatiently displeased at being obliged to ride +first. Slowly and reluctantly she went to get ready; John was +already gone; she would not have moved so leisurely if he had +been anywhere within seeing distance. As it was, she found it +convenient to quicken her movements, and was at the door ready +as soon as he and the Brownie. She was soon thoroughly engaged +in the management of herself and her horse; a little smart +riding shook all the ill-humour out of her, and she was +entirely herself again. At the end of fifteen or twenty +minutes they drew up under the shade of a tree to let the +Brownie rest a little. It was a warm day, and John had taken +off his hat and stood resting too, with his arm leaning on the +neck of the horse. Presently he looked round to Ellen, and +asked her, with a smile, if she felt right again. + +"Why?" said Ellen, the crimson of her cheeks mounting to her +forehead. But her eye sunk immediately at the answering glance +of his. He then, in a very few words, set the matter before +her, with such a happy mixture of pointedness and kindness, +that while the reproof coming from him went to the quick, +Ellen yet joined with it no thought of harshness or severity. +She was completely subdued, however; the rest of the riding +lesson had to be given up, and for an hour Ellen's tears could +not be stayed. But it was, and John had meant it should be, a +strong check given to her besetting sin. It had a long and +lasting effect. + + +CHAPTER XL. + +"Prodigious!" + + +In due time, Mr. Van Brunt was on his legs again, much to +everybody's joy, and much to the advantage of fields, fences, +and grain. Sam and Johnny found they must "spring to," as +their leader said; and Miss Fortune declared she was thankful +she could draw a long breath again, for, do what she would, +she couldn't be everywhere. Before this John and the Black +Prince had departed, and Alice and Ellen were left alone +again. + +"How long will it be, dear Alice," said Ellen, as they stood +sorrowfully looking down the road by which he had gone, +"before he will be through that before he will be able to +leave Doncaster?" + +"Next summer." + +"And what will he do then?" + +"Then he will be ordained." + +"Ordained! what is that?" + +"He will be solemnly set apart for the work of the ministry, +and appointed to it by a number of clergymen." + +"And then will he come and stay at home, Alice?" + +"I don't know what then, dear Ellen," said Alice, sighing; "he +may for a little; but Papa wishes very much that before he is +settled anywhere, he should visit England and Scotland, and +see our friends there; though I hardly think John will do it, +unless he sees some further reason for going. If he do not, he +will probably soon he called somewhere; Mr. Marshman wants him +to come to Randolph. I don't know how it will be." + +"Well!" said Ellen, with a kind of acquiescing sigh, "at any +rate now we must wait until next Christmas." + +The winter passed with little to mark it except the usual +visits to Ventnor; which, however, by common consent, Alice +and Ellen had agreed should not be when John was at home. At +all other times they were much prized and enjoyed. Every two +or three months Mr. Marshman was sure to come for them, or Mr. +Howard, or perhaps the carriage only with a letter; and it was +bargained for, that Mr. Humphreys should follow to see them +home. It was not always that Ellen could go, but the +disappointments were seldom; she, too, had become quite +domesticated at Ventnor, and was sincerely loved by the whole +family. Many as were the times she had been there, it had +oddly happened that she had never met her old friend of the +boat again; but she was very much attached to old Mr. and Mrs. +Marshman, and Mrs. Chauncey and her daughter; the latter of +whom reckoned all the rest of her young friends as nothing +compared with Ellen Montgomery. Ellen, in her opinion, did +everything better than any one else of her age. + +"She has good teachers," said Mrs. Chauncey. + +"Yes, indeed! I should think she had. Alice I should think +anybody would learn well with her; and Mr. John I suppose +he's as good, though I don't know so much about him; but he +must be a great deal better teacher than Mr. Sandford, Mamma, +for Ellen draws _ten times_ as well as I do!" + +"Perhaps that is your fault, and not Mr. Sandford's," said her +mother; "though I rather think you overrate the difference." + +"I am sure I take pains enough, if that's all," said the +little girl; "what more can I do, Mamma? But Ellen is so +pleasant about it always; she never seems to think she does +better than I; and she is always ready to help me, and take +ever so much time to show me how to do things; she is _so_ +pleasant, isn't she, Mamma? I know I have heard you say she is +very polite." + +"She is certainly that," said Mrs. Gillespie; "and there is a +grace in her politeness that can only proceed from great +natural delicacy and refinement of character. How she can have +such manners, living and working in the way you say she does, +I confess is beyond my comprehension." + +"One would not readily forget the notion of good-breeding in +the society of Alice and John Humphreys," said Miss Sophia. + +"And Mr. Humphreys," said Mrs. Chauncey. + +"There is no society about him," said Miss Sophia; "he don't +say two dozen words a day." + +"But she is not with them," said Mrs. Gillespie. + +"She is with them a great deal, aunt Matilda," said Ellen +Chauncey, "and they teach her everything, and she does learn! +She must be very clever; don't you think she is, Mamma? Mamma, +she beats me entirely in speaking French, and she knows all +about English history; and arithmetic! and did you ever hear +her sing, Mamma?" + +"I do not believe she beats you, as you call it, in generous +estimation of others," said Mrs. Chauncey, smiling, and +bending forward to kiss her daughter; "but what is the reason +Ellen is so much better read in history than you?" + +"I don't know, Mamma, unless I wish I wasn't so fond of +reading stories." + +"Ellen Montgomery is just as fond of them, I'll warrant," said +Miss Sophia. + +"Yes oh, I know she is fond of them; but then Alice and Mr. +John don't let her read them, except now and then one." + +"I fancy she does it, though, when their backs are turned," +said Mrs. Gillespie. + +"She! oh, aunt Matilda! she wouldn't do the least thing they +don't like for the whole world. I know she never reads a story +when she is here, unless it is my Sunday books, without asking +Alice first." + +"She is a most extraordinary child!" said Mrs. Gillespie. + +"She is a _good_ child!" said Mrs. Chauncey. + +"Yes, Mamma, and that is what I wanted to say. I do not think +Ellen is so polite because she is so much with Alice and John, +but because she is so sweet and good. I don't think she could +_help_ being polite." + +"It is not that," said Mrs. Gillespie; "mere sweetness and +goodness would never give so much elegance of manner. As far +as I have seen, Ellen Montgomery is a _perfectly_ well-behaved +child." + +"That she is," said Mrs. Chauncey; "but neither would any +cultivation or example be sufficient for it without Ellen's +thorough good principle and great sweetness of temper." + +"That's exactly what _I_ think, Mamma," said Ellen Chauncey. + +Ellen's sweetness of temper was not entirely born with her; it +was one of the blessed fruits of religion and discipline. +Discipline had not done with it yet. When the winter came on, +and the house-work grew less, and with renewed vigour she was +bending herself to improvement in all sorts of ways, it +unluckily came into Miss Fortune's head, that some of Ellen's +spare time might be turned to account in a new line. With this +lady, to propose and to do were two things always very near +together. The very next day Ellen was summoned to help her +down-stairs with the big spinning-wheel. Most unsuspiciously, +and with her accustomed pleasantness, Ellen did it. But when +she was sent up again for the rolls of wool, and Miss Fortune, +after setting up the wheel, put one of them into her hand and +instructed her how to draw out and twist the thread of yarn, +she saw all that was coming. She saw it with dismay. So much +yarn as Miss Fortune might think it well she should spin, so +much time must be taken daily from her beloved reading and +writing, drawing, and studying; her very heart sunk with her. +She made no remonstrance, unless her disconsolate face might +be thought one; she stood half a day at the big spinning- +wheel, fretting secretly, while Miss Fortune went round with +an inward chuckle visible in her countenance, that in spite of +herself increased Ellen's vexation. And this was not the +annoyance of a day; she must expect it day after day through +the whole winter. It was a grievous trial. Ellen cried for a +great while when she got to her own room, and a long hard +struggle was necessary before she could resolve to do her +duty. "To be patient and quiet! and spin nobody knows how +much yarn and my poor history and philosophy and drawing and +French and reading!" Ellen cried very heartily. But she knew +what she ought to do; she prayed long, humbly, earnestly, that +"her little rushlight might shine bright;" and her aunt had +no cause to complain of her. Sometimes, if over-pressed, Ellen +would ask Miss Fortune to let her stop; saying, as Alice had +advised her, that she wished to have her do such and such +things; Miss Fortune never made any objection; and the hours +of spinning that wrought so many knots of yarn for her aunt, +wrought better things yet for the little spinner: patience and +gentleness grew with the practice of them; this wearisome work +was one of the many seemingly untoward things which in reality +bring out good. The time Ellen _did_ secure to herself was held +the more precious, and used the more carefully. After all it +was a very profitable and pleasant winter to her. + +John's visit came as usual at the holidays, and was enjoyed as +usual; only that every one seemed to Ellen more pleasant than +the last. The only other event that broke the quiet course of +things (besides the journeys to Ventnor) was the death of Mrs. +Van Brunt. This happened very unexpectedly and after a short +illness, not far from the end of January. Ellen was very +sorry, both for her own sake and Mr. Van Brunt's, who she was +sure felt much, though, according to his general custom, he +said nothing. Ellen felt for him none the less. She little +thought what an important bearing this event would have upon +her own future well-being. + +The winter passed and the spring came. One fine, mild, +pleasant afternoon, early in May, Mr. Van Brunt came into the +kitchen and asked Ellen if she wanted to go with him and see +the sheep salted. Ellen was seated at the table with a large +tin pan in her lap, and before her a huge heap of white beans, +which she was picking over for the Saturday's favourite dish +of pork and beans. She looked up at him with a hopeless face. + +"I should like to go very much indeed, Mr. Van Brunt, but you +see I can't. All these to do!" + +"Beans, eh?" said he, putting one or two in his mouth. +"Where's your aunt?" + +"Here, Ma'am!" said he "can't you let this child go with me? +I want her along to help feed the sheep." + +To Ellen's astonishment, her aunt called to her through the +closed door to "go along, and leave the beans till she came +back." Joyfully Ellen obeyed. She turned her back upon the +beans, careless of the big heap which would still be there to +pick over when she returned, and ran to get her bonnet. In all +the time she had been at Thirlwall, something had always +prevented her seeing the sheep fed with salt, and she went +eagerly out of the door with Mr. Van Brunt to a new pleasure. + +They crossed two or three meadows back of the barn, to a low +rocky hill covered with trees. On the other side of this, they +came to a fine field of spring wheat. Footsteps must not go +over the young grain; Ellen and Mr. Van Brunt coasted +carefully round by the fence to another piece of rocky +woodland, that lay on the far side of the wheat-field. It was +a very fine afternoon. The grass was green in the meadow; the +trees were beginning to show their leaves; the air was soft +and spring-like. In great glee Ellen danced along, luckily +needing no entertainment from Mr. Van Brunt, who was devoted +to his salt-pan. His natural taciturnity seemed greater than +ever; he amused himself all the way over the meadow, with +turning over his salt and tasting it, till Ellen laughingly +told him, she believed he was as fond of it as the sheep were; +and then he took to chucking little bits of it right and left, +at anything he saw that was big enough to serve for a mark. +Ellen stopped him again, by laughing at his wastefulness; and +so they came to the wood. She left him then to do as he liked, +while she ran hither and thither to search for flowers. It was +slow getting through the wood. He was fain to stop and wait +for her. + +"Aren't these lovely?" said Ellen, as she came up with her +hands full of anemones "and look there's the liverwort. I +thought it must be out before now the dear little thing! +but I can't find any blood-root, Mr. Van Brunt." + +"I guess they're gone," said Mr. Van Brunt. + +"I suppose they must," said Ellen. "I am sorry; I like them so +much. Oh, I believe I did get them earlier than this two years +ago, when I used to take so many walks with you. Only think of +my not having been to look for flowers before, this spring." + +"It hadn't ought to ha' happened so, that's a fact," said Mr. +Van Brunt; "I don't know how it has." + +"Oh! there are my yellow bells!" exclaimed Ellen "oh, you +beauties! Aren't they, Mr. Van Brunt?" + +"I won't say but what I think an ear of wheat's handsomer," +said he, with his half smile. + +"Why, Mr. Van Brunt! How can you? but an ear of wheat's +pretty, too. Oh, Mr. Van Brunt, what _is_ that? Do you get me +some of it, will you, please? Oh, how beautiful! what is +it?" + +"That's black birch," said he; " '_tis_ kind o' handsome; +stop, I'll find you some oak blossoms directly. There's some +Solomon's seal do you want some of that?" + +Ellen sprang to it with exclamations of joy, and, before she +could rise from her stooping posture, discovered some cowslips +to be scrambled for. Wild columbine, the delicate corydalis, +and more uvularias, which she called yellow bells, were added +to her handful, till it grew a very elegant bunch indeed. Mr. +Van Brunt looked complacently on, much as Ellen would at a +kitten running round after its tail. + +"Now, I won't keep you any longer, Mr. Van Brunt," said she, +when her hands were as full as they could hold; "I have kept +you a great while; you are very good to wait for me." + +They took up their line of march again, and after crossing the +last piece of rocky woodland, came to an open hill-side, +sloping gently up, at the foot of which were several large +flat stones. + +"But where are the sheep, Mr. Van Brunt?" said Ellen. + +"I guess they ain't fur," said he. "You keep quiet, 'cause +they don't know you; and they are mighty scary. Just stand +still there by the fence. Ca-nan! ca-nan! ca-nan, nan, nan, +nan, nan, nan, nan!" + +This was the sheep-call, and raising his voice, Mr. Van Brunt +made it sound abroad far over the hills. Again and again it +sounded; and then Ellen saw the white nose of a sheep, at the +edge of the woods, on the top of the hill. On the call's +sounding again, the sheep set forward, and in a long train +they came running along a narrow footpath, down towards where +Mr. Van Brunt was standing with his pan. The soft tramp of a +multitude of light hoofs in another direction, turned Ellen's +eyes that way, and there were two more single files of sheep +running down the hill from different points in the woodland. +The pretty things came scampering along, seeming in a great +hurry, till they got very near; then the whole multitude came +to a sudden halt, and looked very wistfully and doubtfully +indeed at Mr. Van Brunt, and the strange little figure +standing so still by the fence. They seemed in great doubt, +every sheep of them, whether Mr. Van Brunt were not a traitor, +who had put on a friend's voice, and lured them down there +with some dark evil intent, which he was going to carry out by +means of that same dangerous-looking stranger by the fence. +Ellen almost expected to see them turn about and go as fast as +they had come. But Mr. Van Brunt, gently repeating his call, +went quietly up to the nearest stone, and began to scatter the +salt upon it, full in their view. Doubt was at an end; he had +hung out the white flag; they flocked down to the stones, no +longer at all in fear of double-dealing, and crowded to get at +the salt; the rocks where it was strewn were covered with more +sheep than Ellen would have thought it possible could stand +upon them. They were like pieces of floating ice, heaped up +with snow, or queen-cakes with an immoderately thick frosting. +It was one scene of pushing and crowding those which had not +had their share of the feast forcing themselves up to get at +it, and shoving others off in consequence. Ellen was +wonderfully pleased. It was a new and pretty sight, the busy +hustling crowd of gentle creatures, with the soft noise of +their tread upon grass and stones, and the eager devouring of +the salt. She was fixed with pleasure, looking and listening, +and did not move till the entertainment was over, and the body +of the flock were carelessly scattering here and there, while +a few that had perhaps been disappointed of their part, still +lingered upon the stones, in the vain hope of yet licking a +little saltness from them. + +"Well," said Ellen, "I never knew what salt was worth before. +How they do love it! Is it good for them, Mr. Van Brunt?" + +"Good for them!" said he "to be sure it is good for them. +There ain't a critter that walks, as I know, that it ain't +good for 'cept chickens, and, it's very queer, it kills +them." + +They turned to go homeward. Ellen had taken the empty pan to +lay her flowers in, thinking it would be better for them than +the heat of her hand; and, greatly pleased with what she had +come to see, and enjoying her walk as much as it was possible, +she was going home very happy, yet she could not help missing +Mr. Van Brunt's old sociableness. He was uncommonly silent, +even for him, considering that he and Ellen were alone +together; and she wondered what had possessed him with a +desire to cut down all the young saplings he came to that were +large enough for walking-sticks. He did not want to make any +use of them that was certain, for as fast as he cut and +trimmed out one he threw it away and cut another. Ellen was +glad when they got out into the open fields where there were +none to be found. + +"It is just about this time a year ago," said she, "that Aunt +Fortune was getting well of her long fit of sickness." + +"Yes!" said Mr. Van Brunt, with a very profound air; +"something is always happening most years." + +Ellen did not know what to make of this philosophical remark. + +"I am very glad nothing is happening this year," said she; "I +think it is a great deal pleasanter to have things go on +quietly." + +"Oh, something might happen without hindering things going on +quietly, I s'pose mightn't it?" + +"I don't know," said Ellen, wonderingly. "Why, Mr. Van Brunt, +what is going to happen?" + +"I declare," said he, half-laughing, "you're as 'cute as a +razor; I didn't say there was anything going to happen, did +I?" + +"But is there?" said Ellen. + +"Han't your aunt said nothing to you about it?" + +"Why, no," said Ellen "she never tells me anything; what is +it?" + +"Why, the story is," said Mr. Van Brunt "at least I know, +for I've understood as much from herself, that I believe +she's going to be married before long." + +"She!" exclaimed Ellen. "Married! Aunt Fortune!" + +"I believe so," said Mr. Van Brunt, making a lunge at a tuft +of tall grass, and pulling off two or three spears of it, +which he carried to his mouth. + +There was a long silence, during which Ellen saw nothing in +earth, air, or sky, and knew no longer whether she was passing +through woodland or meadow. To frame words into another +sentence was past her power. They came in sight of the barn at +length. She would not have much more time. + +"Will it be soon, Mr. Van Brunt?" + +"Why pretty soon as soon as next week, I guess; so I thought +it was time you ought to be told. Do you know to who?" + +"I don't _know_," said Ellen, in a low voice; "I couldn't help +guessing." + +"I reckon you've guessed about right," said he, without +looking at her. + +There was another silence, during which it seemed to Ellen +that her thoughts were tumbling head over heels, they were in +such confusion. + +"The short and the long of it is," said Mr. Van Brunt, as they +rounded the corner of the barn "we have made up our minds to +draw in the same yoke; and we're both on us pretty go-ahead +folks, so I guess we'll contrive to pull the cart along. I had +just as lief tell you, Ellen, that all this was as good as +settled a long spell back afore ever you came to Thirlwall; +but I was never a-going to leave my old mother without a home, +so I stuck to her, and would, to the end of time, if I had +never been married. But now she is gone, and there is nothing +to keep me to the old place any longer. So now you know the +hull on it, and I wanted you should." + +With this particularly cool statement of his matrimonial +views, Mr. Van Brunt turned off into the barnyard, leaving +Ellen to go home by herself. She felt as if she were walking +on air while she crossed the chip-yard, and the very house had +a seeming of unreality. Mechanically she put her flowers in +water, and sat down to finish the beans; but the beans might +have been flowers, and the flowers beans, for all the +difference Ellen saw in them. Miss Fortune and she shunned +each other's faces most carefully for a long time Ellen felt +it impossible to meet her eyes; and it is a matter of great +uncertainty which, in fact, did first look at the other. Other +than this there was no manner of difference in anything +without or within the house. Mr. Van Brunt's being absolutely +speechless was not a _very_ uncommon thing. + + +CHAPTER XLI. + +"The clouds return after the rain." + + +As soon as she could, Ellen carried this wonderful news to +Alice, and eagerly poured out the whole story, her walk and +all. She was somewhat disappointed at the calmness of her +hearer. + +"But you don't seem half as surprised as I expected, Alice; I +thought you would be so much surprised." + +"I am not surprised at all, Ellie." + +"Not! aren't you? why, did you know anything of this before?" + +"I did not _know_, but I suspected. I thought it was very +likely. I am very glad it is so." + +"Glad! are you glad? I am so sorry. Why are you glad, Alice?" + +"Why are you sorry, Ellie?" + +"Oh because I don't know it seems so queer! I don't like +it at all. I am very sorry, indeed." + +"For your aunt's sake, or for Mr. Van Brunt's sake?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean, do you think he or she will be a loser by the +bargain?" + +"Why, he to be sure I think he will I don't think she +will. I think he is a great deal too good. And, besides I +wonder if he wants to, really it was settled so long ago +maybe he has changed his mind since." + +"Have you any reason to think so, Ellie?" said Alice, smiling. + +"I don't know I don't think he seemed particularly glad." + +"It will be safest to conclude that Mr. Van Brunt knows his +own mind, my dear; and it is certainly pleasanter for us to +hope so." + +"But then, besides," said Ellen, with a face of great +perplexity and vexation "I don't know it don't seem right! +How can I ever must I do you think I shall have to call +him anything but Mr. Van Brunt?" + +Alice could not help smiling again. + +"What is your objection, Ellie?" + +"Why, because I _can't!_ I couldn't do it, somehow. It would +seem so strange. Must I, Alice? Why in the world are you glad, +dear Alice?" + +"It smooths my way for a plan I have had in my head; you will +know by-and-by why I am glad, Ellie." + +"Well, I am glad if you are glad," said Ellen, sighing; "I +don't know why I was so sorry, but I couldn't help it. I +suppose I shan't mind it after a while." + +She sat for a few minutes, musing over the possibility or +impossibility of ever forming her lips to the words "Uncle +Abraham," "Uncle Van Brunt," or barely "uncle;" her soul +rebelled against all three. "Yet, if he should think me +unkind, then I must oh! rather fifty times over than that!" +Looking up, she saw a change in Alice's countenance, and +tenderly asked + +"What is the matter, dear Alice? what are you thinking about?" + +"I am thinking, Ellie, how I shall tell you something that +will give you pain." + +"Pain! you needn't be afraid of giving me pain," said Ellen, +fondly, throwing her arms around her. "Tell me, dear Alice; is +it something I have done that is wrong? what is it?" + +Alice kissed her, and burst into tears. + +"What is the matter; oh, dear Alice!" said Ellen, encircling +Alice's head with both her arms, "oh, don't cry! do tell me +what it is!" + +"It is only sorrow for you, dear Ellie." + +"But why?" said Ellen, in some alarm; "why are you sorry for +me? I don't care if it don't trouble you, indeed I don't? +Never mind me; is it something that troubles you, dear Alice?" + +"No, except for the effect it may have on others." + +"Then I can bear it," said Ellen; "you need not be afraid to +tell me, dear Alice; what is it? don't be sorry for me!" + +But the expression of Alice's face was such that she could not +help being afraid to hear: she anxiously repeated, "what is +it?" + +Alice fondly smoothed back the hair from her brow, looking +herself somewhat anxiously and somewhat sadly upon the +uplifted face. + +"Suppose Ellie," she, said at length, "that you and I were +taking a journey together a troublesome, dangerous journey +and that _I_ had a way of getting at once safe to the end of it; + would you be willing to let me go, and you do without me for +the rest of the way?" + +"I would rather you should take me with you," said Ellen, in a +kind of maze of wonder and fear; "why, where are you going, +Alice?" + +"I think I am going home, Ellie before you." + +"Home?" said Ellen. + +"Yes, home, I feel it to be; it is not a strange land; I thank +God it is my home I am going to." + +Ellen sat looking at her, stupefied. + +"It is your home, too, love, I trust, and believe," said Alice +tenderly; "we shall be together at last. I am not sorry for +myself; I only grieve to leave you alone and others but +God knows best. We must both look to Him." + +"Why, Alice," said Ellen, starting up suddenly; "what do you +mean? what do you mean? I don't understand you what do you +mean?" + +"Do you not understand me, Ellie?" + +"But, Alice! but Alice _dear_ Alice! what makes you say +so? is there anything the matter with you?" + +"Do I look well, Ellie?" + +With an eye sharpened to painful keenness, Ellen sought in +Alice's face for the tokens of what she wished and what she +feared. It _had_ once or twice lately flitted through her mind +that Alice was very thin, and seemed to want her old strength, +whether in riding or walking or any other exertion; and it _had_ +struck her that the bright spots of colour in Alice's face +were just like what her mother's cheeks used to wear in her +last illness. These thoughts had just come and gone; but now, +as she recalled them, and was forced to acknowledge the +justness of them, and her review of Alice's face pressed them +home anew hope for a moment faded. She grew white, even to +her lips. + +"My poor Ellie! my poor Ellie!" said Alice, pressing her +little sister to her bosom "it must be! We _must_ say 'the +Lord's will be done;' we must not forget he does all things +well." + +But Ellen rallied; she raised her head again: she could not +believe what Alice had told her. To her mind, it seemed an +evil _too great to happen;_ it could not be! Alice saw this in +her look, and again sadly stroked her hair from her brow. "It +must be, Ellie," she repeated. + +"But have you seen somebody? have you asked somebody?" said +Ellen "some doctor?" + +"I have seen, and I have asked," said Alice; "it was not +necessary, but I have done both. They think as I do." + +"But these Thirlwall doctors " + +"Not them; I did not apply to them. I saw an excellent +physician at Randolph, the last time I went to Ventnor." + +"And he said " + +"As I have told you." + +Ellen's countenance fell fell. + +"It is easier for me to leave you than for you to be left I +know that, my dear little Ellie! You have no reason to be +sorry for me I _am_ sorry for you; but the hand that is taking +me away is one that will touch neither of us but to do us +good; I know that, too. We must both look away to our dear +Saviour, and not for a moment doubt his love. I do not you +must not. Is it not said that 'he loved Martha, and her +sister, and Lazarus?' " + +"Yes," said Ellen, who never stirred her eyes from Alice's. + +"And might he not did it not rest with a word of his lips, +to keep Lazarus from dying, and save his sisters from all the +bitter sorrow his death caused them?" + +Again Ellen said, "Yes," or her lips seemed to say it. + +"And yet there were reasons, good reasons, why he should not, +little as poor Martha and Mary could understand it. But had +he at all ceased to _love them_ when he bade all that trouble +come? Do you remember, Ellie oh, how beautiful those words +are! when at last he arrived near the place, and first one +sister came to him with the touching reminder that he might +have saved them from this, and then the other, weeping, and +falling at his feet, and repeating 'Lord, if thou hadst been +here!' when he saw their tears, and more, saw the torn +hearts that tears could not ease he even wept with them too! +Oh, I thank God for those words! He saw reason to strike, and +his hand did not spare; but his love shed tears for them! and +he is just the same now." + +Some drops fell from Alice's eyes, not sorrowful ones; Ellen +had hid her face. + +'Let us never doubt His love, dear Ellie, and surely then we +can bear whatever that love may bring upon us. I do trust it. +I do believe it shall be well with them that fear God. I +believe it will be well for me when I die well for you, my +dear, dear Ellie well even for my father " + +She did not finish the sentence, afraid to trust herself. But +oh! Ellen knew what it would have been; and it suddenly +startled into life all the load of grief that had been +settling heavily on her heart. Her thoughts had not looked +that way before; now, when they did, this new vision of misery +was too much to bear. Quite unable to contain herself, and +unwilling to pain Alice more than she could help, with a +smothered burst of feeling she sprang away, out of the door, +into the woods, where she would be unseen and unheard. + +And there, in the first burst of her agony, Ellen almost +thought she should die. Her grief had not now, indeed, the +goading sting of impatience: she knew the hand that gave the +blow, and did not raise her own against it; she believed, too, +what Alice had been saying, and the sense of it was, in a +manner, present with her in her darkest time. But her spirit +died within her; she bowed her head as if she were never to +lift it up again; and she was ready to say with Job, "What +good is my life to me?" + +It was long, very long after, when slowly and mournfully she +came in again to kiss Alice before going back to her aunt's. +She would have done it hurriedly and turned away; but Alice +held her, and looked sadly for a minute into the woe-begone +little face, then clasped her close, and kissed her again and +again. + +"Oh! Alice," sobbed Ellen, on her neck, "aren't you mistaken? +maybe you are mistaken!" + +"I am not mistaken, my dear Ellie my own Ellie," said +Alice's clear, sweet voice; "nor sorry, except for others. I +will talk with you more about this. You will be sorry for me +at first, and then I hope you will be glad. It is only that I +am going home a little before you. Remember what I was saying +to you a while ago. Will you tell Mr. Van Brunt I should like +to see him for a few minutes, some time when he has leisure? +And come to me early to-morrow, love." + +Ellen could hardly get home. Her blinded eyes could not see +where she was stepping; and again and again her fulness of +heart got the better of everything else, and, unmindful of the +growing twilight, she sat down on a stone by the wayside, or +flung herself on the ground, to let sorrows have full sway. In +one of these fits of bitter struggling with pain, there came +on her mind, like a sunbeam across a cloud, the thought of +Jesus weeping at the grave of Lazarus. It came with singular +power. Did He love them so well? thought Ellen, and is He +looking down upon us with the same tenderness even now? She +felt that the sun was shining still, though the cloud might be +between; her broken heart crept to His feet, and laid its +burden there, and after a few minutes she rose up and went on +her way, keeping that thought still close to her heart. The +unspeakable tears that were shed during those few minutes were +that softened out-pouring of the heart that leaves it eased. +Very, very sorrowful as she was, she went on calmly now, and +stopped no more. + +It was getting dark, and a little way from the gate, on the +road, she met Mr. Van Brunt. + +"Why, I was beginning to get scared about you," said he. "I +was coming to see where you was. How come you so late?" + +Ellen made no answer, and as he now came nearer, and he could +see more distinctly, his tone changed. + +"What's the matter?" said he; "you han't been well! what has +happened? what ails you, Ellen?" + +In astonishment, and then in alarm, he saw that she was unable +to speak, and anxiously and kindly begged her to let him know +what was the matter, and if he could do anything. Ellen shook +her head. + +"Ain't Miss Alice well?" said he; "you han't heerd no bad news +up there on the hill, have you?" + +Ellen was not willing to answer this question with yea or nay. +She recovered herself enough to give him Alice's message. + +"I'll be sure and go," said he; "but you han't told me yet +what's the matter. Has anything happened?" + +"No," said Ellen; "don't ask me she'll tell you don't ask +me." + +"I guess I'll go up the first thing in the morning then," said +he "before breakfast." + +"No," said Ellen "better not; perhaps she wouldn't be up so +early." + +"After breakfast, then; I'll go up right after breakfast. I +was a-going with the boys up into that 'ere wheat lot, but +anyhow I'll do that first. They won't have a chance to do much +bad or good before I get back to them, I reckon." + +As soon as possible, she made her escape from Miss Fortune's +eye and questions of curiosity, which she could not bear to +answer, and got to her own room. There, the first thing she +did was to find the eleventh chapter of John. She read it as +she never had read it before; she found in it what she never +had found before; one of those cordials that none but the +sorrowing drink. On the love of Christ, as there shown, little +Ellen's heart fastened; and with that one sweetening thought, +amid all its deep sadness, her sleep that night might have +been envied by many a luxurious roller in pleasure. + +At Alice's wish, she immediately took up her quarters at the +parsonage, to leave her no more. But she could not see much +difference in her from what she had been for several weeks +past; and with the natural hopefulness of childhood, her mind +presently almost refused to believe the extremity of the evil +which had been threatened. Alice herself was constantly +cheerful, and sought by all means to further Ellen's +cheerfulness; though careful, at the same time, to forbid, as +far as she could, the rising of the hope she saw Ellen was +inclined to cherish. + +One evening they were sitting together at the window, looking +out upon the same old lawn and distant landscape, now in all +the fresh greenness of the young spring. The woods were not +yet in full leaf; and the light of the setting sun upon the +trees bordering the other side of the lawn, showed them in the +most exquisite and varied shades of colour. Some had the +tender green of the new leaf, some were in the red or yellow +browns of the half-opened bud; others in various stages of +forwardness, mixing all the tints between, and the evergreens +standing dark as ever, setting off the delicate hues of the +surrounding foliage. This was all softened off in the +distance; the very light of the spring was mild and tender +compared with that of other seasons; and the air that stole +round the corner of the house and came in at the open window +was laden with aromatic fragrance. Alice and Ellen had been +for some time silently breathing it, and gazing thoughtfully +on the loveliness that was abroad. + +"I used to think," said Alice, "that it must be a very hard +thing to leave such a beautiful world. Did you ever think so, +Ellie?" + +"I don't know," said Ellen, faintly "I don't remember." + +"I used to think so," said Alice, "but I do not now, Ellie; my +feeling has changed. Do _you_ feel so now, Ellie?" + +"Oh, why do you talk about it, dear Alice?" + +"For many reasons, dear Ellie. Come here and sit in my lap +again." + +"I am afraid you cannot bear it." + +"Yes, I can. Sit here, and let your head rest where it used +to;" and Alice laid her cheek upon Ellen's forehead; "you are +a great comfort to me, dear Ellie." + +"Oh, Alice, don't say so you'll kill me!" exclaimed Ellen, +in great distress. + +"Why should I not say so, love?" said Alice, soothingly. "I +like to say it, and you will be glad to know it by-and-by. You +are a _great_ comfort to me." + +"And what have you been to me?" said Ellen, weeping bitterly. + +"What I cannot be much longer; and I want to accustom you to +think of it, and to think of it rightly. I want you to know +that, if I am sorry at all in the thought, it is for the sake +of others, not myself. Ellie, you yourself will be glad for me +in a little while; you will not wish me back." + +Ellen shook her head. + +"I know you will not, after a while; and I shall leave you +in good hands I have arranged for that, my dear little +sister!" + +The sorrowing child neither knew nor cared what she meant, but +a mute caress answered the _spirit_ of Alice's words. + +"Look up, Ellie look out again. Lovely, lovely! all that is; +but I know heaven is a great deal more lovely. Feasted as our +eyes are with beauty, I believe that eye has not seen nor +heart imagined the things that God has prepared for them that +love him. _You_ believe that, Ellie; you must not be so very +sorry that I have gone to see it a little before you." + +Ellen could say nothing. + +"After all, Ellie, it is not beautiful things nor a beautiful +world that make people happy it is loving and being loved; +and that is the reason why I am happy in the thought of +heaven. I shall, if he receives me, I shall be with my +Saviour; I shall see him and know him, without any of the +clouds that come between here. I am often forgetting and +displeasing him now never serving him well nor loving him +right. I shall be glad to find myself where all that will be +done with for ever. I shall be like him! Why do you cry so, +Ellie?" said Alice, tenderly. + +"I can't help it, Alice." + +"It is only my love for you and for two more that could +make me wish to stay here nothing else; and I give all that +up, because I do not know what is best for you or myself. And +I look to meet you all again before long. Try to think of it +as I do, Ellie." + +"But what shall I do without you?" said poor Ellen. + +"I will tell you, Ellie. You must come here and take my place, +and take care of those I leave behind; will you? and they +will take care of you." + +"But," said Ellen, looking up eagerly "Aunt Fortune" + +"I have managed all that. Will you do it, Ellen? I shall feel +easy and happy about you, and far easier and happier about my +father, if I leave you established here, to be to him, as far +as you can, what I have been. Will you promise me, Ellie?" + +In words it was not possible; but what silent kisses and the +close pressure of the arms round Alice's neck could say, was +said. + +"I am satisfied, then," said Alice, presently. "My father will +be your father think him so, dear Ellie and I know John +will take care of you. And my place will not be empty. I am +very, very glad." + +Ellen felt her place surely would be empty, but she could not +say so. + +"It was for this I was so glad of your aunt's marriage, +Ellie," Alice soon went on. "I foresaw she might raise some +difficulties in my way hard to remove, perhaps; but now I +have seen Mr. Van Brunt, and he has promised me that nothing +shall hinder your taking up your abode, and making your home +entirely here. Though I believe, Ellie, he would truly have +loved to have you in his own house." + +"I am sure he would," said Ellen "but oh, how much rather!" + +"He behaved very well about it the other morning in a very +manly, frank, kind way showed a good deal of feeling, I +think, too. He gave me to understand that for his own sake he +should be extremely sorry to let you go; but he assured me +that nothing over which he had any control should stand in the +way of your good." + +"He is _very_ kind he is _very_ good he is always so," said +Ellen. "I love Mr. Van Brunt very much. He always was as kind +to me as he could be." + +They were silent for a few minutes, and Alice was looking out +of the window again. The sun had set, and the colouring of all +without was graver. Yet it was but the change from one beauty +to another. The sweet air seemed still sweeter than before the +sun went down. + +"You must be happy, dear Ellie, in knowing that I am. I am +happy now. I enjoy all this, and I love you all but I can +leave it and can leave you yes, both for I would see +Jesus! He who has taught me to love him, will not forsake me +now. Goodness and mercy have followed me all the days of my +life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. I +thank him! Oh, I thank him!" + +Alice's face did not belie her words, though her eyes shone +through tears. + +"Ellie, dear you must love Him with all your heart, and live +constantly in his presence. I know if you do, he will make you +happy, in any event. He can always give more than he takes +away. Oh, how good he is! and what wretched returns we make +him! I was miserable when John first went away to Doncaster; I +did not know how to bear it. But now, Ellie, I think I can see +it has done me good, and I can even be thankful for it. All +things are ours all things the world, and life, and death +too." + +"Alice," said Ellen, as well as she could "you know what you +were saying to me the other day?" + +"About what, love?" + +"That about you know that chapter." + +"About the death of Lazarus?" + +"Yes. It has comforted me very much." + +"So it has me, Ellie. It has been exceeding sweet to me at +different times. Come, sing to me 'How firm a foundation.' " + +From time to time, Alice led to this kind of conversation, +both for Ellen's sake and her own pleasure. Meanwhile she made +her go on with her usual studies and duties; and but for these +talks Ellen would have scarce known how to believe that it +could be true which she feared. + +The wedding of Miss Fortune and Mr. Van Brunt was a very quiet +one. It happened at far too busy a time of the year, and they +were too cool calculators, and looked upon their union in much +too business-like a point of view, to dream of such a wild +thing as a wedding-tour, or even resolve upon so troublesome a +thing as a wedding-party. Miss Fortune would not have left her +cheese and butter-making to see all the New Yorks and Bostons +that ever were built; and she would have scorned a trip to +Randolph. And Mr. Van Brunt would as certainly have wished +himself all the while back among his furrows and crops. So one +day they were quietly married at home, the Rev. Mr. Clark +having been fetched from Thirlwall for the purpose. Mr. Van +Brunt would have preferred that Mr. Humphreys should perform +the ceremony; but Miss Fortune was quite decided in favour of +the Thirlwall gentleman, and of course he it was. + +The talk ran high all over the country on the subject of this +marriage, and opinions were greatly divided; some +congratulating Mr. Van Brunt on having made himself one of the +richest landholders "in town," by the junction of another fat +farm to his own; some pitying him for having got more than his +match within doors, and "guessing he'd missed his reckoning +for once." + +"If he has, then," said Sam Larkens, who heard some of these +condoling remarks, "it's the first time in his life, I can +tell you. If _she_ ain't a little mistaken, I wish I mayn't get +a month's wages in a year to come. I tell you, you don't know +Van Brunt; he's as easy as anybody as long as he don't care +about what you're doing; but if he once takes a notion, you +can't make him gee nor haw no more than you can our near ox +Timothy when he's out o' yoke and he's as ugly a beast to +manage as ever I see when he ain't yoked up. Why, bless you! +there han't been a thing done on the farm this five years but +just what he liked _she_ don't know it. I've heerd her," said +Sam chucking "I've heerd her a-telling him how she wanted +this thing done and t'other, and he'd just not say a word, and +go and do it right t'other way. It'll be a wonder if somebody +ain't considerably startled in her calculations afore summer's +out." + + +CHAPTER XLII. + +One less in the wide, wide world. + + +It was impossible at first to make Mr. Humphreys believe that +Alice was right in her notion about her health. The greatness +of the evil was such that his mind refused to receive it, much +as Ellen's had done. His unbelief, however, lasted longer than +hers. Constantly with Alice as she was, and talking to her on +the subject, Ellen slowly gave up the hope she had clung to; +though, still, bending all her energies to the present +pleasure and comfort of her adopted sister, her mind shrank +from looking at the end. Daily and hourly, in every way, she +strove to be what Alice said she was, a comfort to her, and +she succeeded. Daily and hourly Alice's look and smile and +manner said the same thing over and over. It was Ellen's +precious reward, and in seeking to earn it, she half the time +earned another in forgetting herself. It was different with +Mr. Humphreys. He saw much less of his daughter; and when he +was with her, it was impossible for Alice, with all her +efforts, to speak to him as freely and plainly as she was in +the habit of speaking to Ellen. The consequences were such as +grieved her, but could not be helped. + +As soon as it was known that her health was failing, Sophia +Marshman came and took up her abode at the parsonage. Ellen +was almost sorry; it broke up in a measure the sweet and +peaceful way of life she and Alice had held together ever +since her own coming. Miss Sophia could not make a third in +their conversations. But as Alice's strength grew less, and +she needed more attendance and help, it was plain her friend's +being there was a happy thing for both Alice and Ellen. Miss +Sophia was active, cheerful, untiring in her affectionate +care, always pleasant in manner and temper; a very useful +person in a house where one was ailing. Mrs. Vawse was often +there, too, and to her Ellen clung, whenever she came, as to a +pillar of strength. Miss Sophia could do nothing to help _her;_ +Mrs. Vawse could, a great deal. + +Alice had refused to write or allow others to write to her +brother. She said he was just finishing his course of study at +Doncaster; she would not have him disturbed or broken off by +bad news from home. In August he would be quite through; the +first of August he would be home. + +Before the middle of June, however, her health began to fail +much more rapidly than she had counted upon. It became too +likely that, if she waited for his regular return at the first +of August, she would see but little of her brother. She at +last reluctantly consented that Mrs. Chauncey should write to +him; and from that moment counted the days. + +Her father had scarcely till now given up his old confidence +respecting her. He came into her room one morning when just +about to set out for Carra-carra to visit one or two of his +poor parishioners. + +"How are you to day, my daughter?" he asked, tenderly. + +"Easy, Papa and happy," said Alice. + +"You are looking better," said he. "We shall have you well +again among us yet." + +There was some sorrow for him in Alice's smile, as she looked +up at him and answered, "Yes, Papa in the land where the +inhabitant shall no more say, 'I am sick.' " + +He kissed her hastily, and went out. + +"I almost wish I was in your place, Alice," said Miss Sophia. +"I hope I may be half as happy when my time comes." + +"What right have you to hope so, Sophia?" said Alice, rather +sadly. + +"To be sure," said the other, after a pause, "you have been +ten times as good as I. I don't wonder you feel easy when you +look back and think how blameless your life has been." + +"Sophia, Sophia!" said Alice "you know it is not that. I +never did a good thing in all my life that was not mixed and +spoiled with evil. I never came up to the full measure of duty +in any matter." + +"But surely," said Miss Sophia, "if one does the best one can, +it will be accepted?" + +"It won't do to trust to that, Sophia. God's law requires +perfection; and nothing less than perfection will be received +as payment of its demand. If you owe a hundred dollars, and +your creditor will not hold you quit for anything less than +the whole sum, it is of no consequence whether you offer him +ten or twenty." + +"Why, according to that," said Miss Sophia. "it makes no +difference what kind of life one leads." + +Alice sighed, and shook her head. + +"The fruit shows what the tree is. Love to God _will_ strive to +please him always." + +"And is it of no use to strive to please him?" + +"Of no manner of use, if you make that your _trust_." + +"Well, I don't see what one _is_ to trust to," said Miss Sophia, +"if it isn't a good life." + +"I will answer you," said Alice, with a smile in which there +was no sorrow, "in some words that I love very much, of an old +Scotchman, I think; 'I have taken all my good deeds and all +my bad, and have cast them together in a heap before the Lord; +and from them all I have fled to Jesus Christ, and in him +alone I have sweet peace.' " + +Sophia was silenced for a minute by her look. + +"Well," said she, "I don't understand it; that is what George +is always talking about; but I can't understand him." + +"I am _very_ sorry you cannot," said Alice, gravely. + +They were both silent for a little while. + +"If all Christians were like you," said Miss Sophia, "I might +think more about it; but they are such a dull set; there seems +to be no life nor pleasure among them." + +Alice thought of these lines, + + +"Their pleasures rise to things unseen, +Beyond the bounds of time: +Where neither eyes nor ears have been, +Nor thoughts of mortals climb." + + +"You judge," said she, "like the rest of the world, of that +which they see not. After all, _they_ know best whether they are +happy. What do you think of Mrs. Vawse? + +"I don't know what to think of her; she is wonderful to me; +she is past my comprehension entirely. Don't make _her_ an +example." + +"No, religion has done that for me. What do you think of your +brother?" + +"George? _He_ is happy, there is no doubt of that; he is the +happiest person in the family, by all odds; but then I think +he has a natural knack at being happy; it is impossible for +anything to put him out." + +Alice smiled, and shook her head again. + +"Sophistry, Sophia. What do you think of _me?_" + +"I don't see what reason you have to be anything but happy." + +"What have I to make me so?" + +Sophia was silent. Alice laid her thin hand upon hers. + +"I am leaving all I love in this world. Should I be happy if I +were not going to somewhat I love better? Should I be happy if +I had no secure prospect of meeting with them again? or if I +were doubtful of my reception in that place whither I hope to +go?" + + +Sophia burst into tears. + +"Well, I don't know," said she; "I suppose you are right; but +I don't understand it." + +Alice drew her face down to hers, and whispered something in +her ear. + +Undoubtedly Alice had much around, as well as within her, to +make a declining life happy. Mrs. Vawse and Miss Marshman were +two friends and nurses not to be surpassed in their different +ways. Margery's motherly affection, her zeal, and her skill, +left nothing for heart to wish in her line of duty. And all +that affection, taste, and kindness, which abundant means, +could supply, was at Alice's command. Still her greatest +comfort was Ellen; her constant, thoughtful care; the thousand +tender attentions, from the roses daily gathered for her +table, to the chapters she read and the hymns she sung to her; +the smile that often covered a pang; the pleasant words and +tone that many a time came from a sinking heart; they were +Alice's daily and nightly cordial. Ellen had learned self- +command in more than one school; affection, as once before, +was her powerful teacher now, and taught her well. Sophia +openly confessed that Ellen was the best nurse; and Margery, +when nobody heard her, muttered blessings on the child's head. + +Mr. Humphreys came in often to see his daughter, but never +stayed long. It was plain he could not bear it. It might have +been difficult, too, for Alice to bear, but she wished for her +brother. She reckoned the time from Mrs. Chauncey's letter to +that when he might be looked for; but some irregularities in +the course of the post-office made it impossible to count with +certainty upon the exact time of his arrival. Meanwhile, her +failure was very rapid. Mrs. Vawse began to fear he would not +arrive in time. + +The weeks of June ran out; the roses, all but a few late +kinds, blossomed and died; July came. + +One morning, when Ellen went into her room, Alice drew her +close to her and said + +"You remember, Ellie, in the _Pilgrim's Progress_, when +Christiana and her companions were sent to go over the river? + I think the messenger has come for me. You mustn't cry, +love; listen this is the token he seems to bring me 'I +have loved thee with an everlasting love.' I am sure of it, +Ellie; I have no doubt of it; so don't cry for me. You have +been my dear comfort, my blessing we shall love each other +in heaven, Ellie." + +Alice kissed her earnestly several times, and then Ellen +escaped from her arms and fled away. It was long before she +could come back again. But she came at last, and went on +through all that day as she had done for weeks before. The day +seemed long, for every member of the family was on the watch +for John's arrival, and it was thought his sister would not +live to see another. It wore away; hour after hour passed +without his coming, and the night fell. Alice showed no +impatience, but she evidently wished and watched for him; and +Ellen whose affection read her face and knew what to make of +the look at the opening door, the eye turned towards the +window, the attitude of listening grew feverish with her +intense desire that she should be gratified. + +From motives of convenience, Alice had moved upstairs to a +room that John generally occupied when he was at home, +directly over the sitting-room, and with pleasant windows +towards the east. Mrs. Chauncey, Miss Sophia, and Mrs. Vawse, +were all there. Alice was lying quietly on the bed, and seemed +to be dozing; but Ellen noticed, after lights were brought, +that every now and then she opened her eyes and gave an +inquiring look round the room. Ellen could not bear it; +slipping softly out, she went downstairs and seated herself on +the threshold of the glass door, as if by watching there she +could be any nearer the knowledge of what she wished for. + +It was a perfectly still summer night. The moon shone brightly +on the little lawn, and poured its rays over Ellen, just as it +had done one well-remembered evening near a year ago. Ellen's +thoughts went back to it. How like and how unlike! All around +was just the same as it had been then; the cool moonlight upon +the distant fields the trees in the gap lit up, as then +the lawn a flood of brightness. But there was no happy party +gathered there now; they were scattered. One was away; one a +sorrowful watcher alone in the moonlight; one waiting to be +gone where there is no need of moon or stars for evermore. +Ellen almost wondered they could shine so bright upon those +that had no heart to rejoice in them; she thought they looked +down coldly and unfeelingly upon her distress. She remembered +the whip-poor-will; none was heard to-night, near or far; she +was glad of it; it would have been too much; and there were +no fluttering leaves; the air was absolutely still. Ellen +looked up again at the moon and stars. They shone calmly on, +despite the reproaches she cast upon them; and as she still +gazed up towards them in their purity and steadfastness, other +thoughts began to come into her head of that which was more +pure still, and more steadfast. How long they have been +shining! thought Ellen; going on just the same, from night +to night, and from year to year as if they never would come +to an end. But they _will_ come to an end the time _will_ come +when they stop shining, bright as they are; and then, when all +they are swept away, then heaven will be only begun; that will +never end! never! And in a few years, we who were so happy a +year ago, and are so sorry now, shall be all glad together +there this will be all over! And then as she looked, and the +tears sprang to her thoughts, a favourite hymn of Alice's came +to her remembrance: + + +"Ye stars are but the shining dust +Of my divine abode; +The pavements of those heavenly courts +Where I shall see my God. + + +"The Father of eternal lights +Shall there his beams display; +And not one moment's darkness mix +With that unvaried day. + + +" 'Not one moment's darkness?' Oh," thought little Ellen, +"there are a great many here!" Still gazing up at the +bright, calm heavens, while the tears ran fast down her face, +and fell into her lap, there came trooping through Ellen's +mind many of those words she had been in the habit of reading +to her mother and Alice, and which she knew and loved so well. + + +"And there shall be no night there; and they need no candle, +neither light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light: +and they shall reign for ever and ever. And there shall be no +more curse, but the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in +it; and his servants shall serve him; and they shall see his +face; and his name shall be in their foreheads. And God shall +wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no +more death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be +any more pain: for the former things have passed away." + +"And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again +and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be +also." + + +While Ellen was yet going over and over these precious things, +with a strong sense of their preciousness in all her throbbing +grief, there came to her ear, through the perfect stillness of +the night, the faint, far-off, not to be mistaken sound of +quick-coming horses' feet nearer and nearer every second. It +came with a mingled pang of pain and pleasure, both very +acute; she rose instantly to her feet, and stood pressing her +hand to her heart, while the quick-measured beat of hoofs grew +louder and louder, until it ceased at the very door. The +minutes were few; but they were moments of intense bitterness. +The tired horse stooped his head, as the rider flung himself +from the saddle, and came to the door, where Ellen stood +fixed. A look asked, and a look answered, the question that +lips could not speak. Ellen only pointed the way and uttered +the words, "upstairs," and John rushed thither. He checked +himself, however, at the door of the room, and opened it, and +went in as calmly as if he had but come from a walk. But his +caution was very needless. Alice knew his step, she knew _his +horse's step_ too well; she had raised herself up, and +stretched out both arms towards him before he entered. In +another moment they were round his neck, and she was supported +in his. There was a long, long silence. + +"Are you happy, Alice?" whispered her brother. + +"Perfectly. This was all I wanted. Kiss me, dear John!" + +As he did so again and again, she felt his tears on her cheek, +and put up her hands to his face to wipe them away; kissed him +then, and then once again laid her head on his breast. They +remained so a little while without stirring; except that some +whispers were exchanged too low for others to hear, and once +more she raised her face to kiss him. A few minutes after, +those who could look saw his colour change; he felt the arms +unclasp their hold, and, as he laid her gently back on the +pillow, they fell languidly down the will and the power that +had sustained them were gone. _Alice_ was gone; but the +departing spirit had left a ray of brightness on its earthly +house; there was a half-smile on the sweet face, of most +entire peace and satisfaction. Her brother looked for a moment + closed the eyes kissed once and again the sweet lips and +left the room. + +Ellen saw him no more that night, nor knew how he passed it. +For her, wearied with grief and excitement, it was spent in +long, heavy slumber. From the pitch to which her spirits had +been wrought by care, sorrow, and self-restraint, they now +suddenly and completely sank down; naturally, and happily, she +lost all sense of trouble in sleep. + +When sleep at last left her, and she stole downstairs into the +sitting-room in the morning, it was rather early. Nobody was +stirring about the house but herself. It seemed deserted; the +old sitting-room looked empty and forlorn the stillness was +oppressive. Ellen could not bear it. Softly opening the glass +door, she went out upon the lawn, where everything was +sparkling in the early freshness of the summer morning. How +could it look so pleasant without, when all pleasantness was +gone within? It pressed upon Ellen's heart. With a restless +feeling of pain, she went on, round the corner of the house, +and paced slowly along the road till she came to the footpath +that led up to the place on the mountain John had called the +Bridge of the Nose. Ellen took that path, often travelled and +much loved by her; and slowly, with slow-dripping tears, made +her way up over moss wet with the dew, and the stones and +rocks with which the rough way was strewn. She passed the +place where Alice had first found her she remembered it +well; there was the very stone beside which they had kneeled +together, and where Alice's folded hands were laid. Ellen +knelt down beside it again, and for a moment laid her cheek to +the cold stone, while her arms embraced it, and a second time +it was watered with tears. She rose up again quickly, and went +on her way, toiling up the steep path beyond, till she turned +the edge of the mountain, and stood on the old place, where +she and Alice that evening had watched the setting sun. Many a +setting sun they had watched from thence; it had been a +favourite pleasure of them both to run up there for a few +minutes, before or after tea, and see the sun go down at the +far end of the long valley. It seemed to Ellen one of Alice's +haunts she missed her there and the thought went keenly +home that there she would come with her no more. She sat down +on the stone she called her own, and leaning her head on +Alice's, which was close by, she wept bitterly. Yet not very +long she was too tired and subdued for bitter weeping; she +raised her head again, and wiping away her tears, looked +abroad over the beautiful landscape never more beautiful +than then. + +The early sun filled the valley with patches of light and +shade. The sides and tops of the hills looking towards the +east were bright with the cool brightness of the morning; +beyond and between them deep shadows lay. The sun could not +yet look at that side of the mountain where Ellen sat, nor at +the long reach of ground it screened from his view, stretching +from the mountain foot to the other end of the valley; but to +the left, between that and the Cat's Back, the rays of the sun +streamed through, touching the houses of the village, showing +the lake, and making every tree and barn and clump of wood in +the distance stand out in bright relief. Deliciously cool, +both the air and the light, though a warm day was promised. +The night had swept away all the heat of yesterday. Now, the +air was fresh with the dew, and sweet from hayfield and +meadow; and the birds were singing merrily all around. There +was no answering echo in the little human heart that looked +and listened. Ellen loved all things too well not to notice +them even now; she felt their full beauty, but she felt it +sadly. "_She_ will look at it no more!" she said to herself. But +instantly came an answer to her thought "Behold I create new +heavens, and a new earth; and the former shall not be +remembered, nor come into mind. Thy sun shall no more go down, +neither shall thy moon withdraw itself; for the Lord shall be +thine everlasting light, and the days of thy mourning shall be +ended." + +"She is there now," thought Ellen; "she is happy; why should I +be sorry for her? I am not; but oh! I must be sorry for myself + Oh! Alice! dear Alice!" + +She wept; but then again came sweeping over her mind the words +with which she was so familiar, "the days of thy mourning +shall be ended;" and again with her regret mingled the +consciousness that it must be for herself alone. And for +herself, "Can I not trust Him whom she trusted?" she +thought. Somewhat soothed and more calm, she sat still looking +down into the brightening valley, or off to the hills that +stretched away on either hand of it; when up through the still +air the sound of the little Carra-carra church bell came to +her ear. It rang for a minute and then stopped. + +It crossed Ellen's mind to wonder what it could be ringing for +at that time of day; but she went back to her musings and had +entirely forgotten it, when again, clear and full through the +stillness, the sound came pealing up. + +"One two!" + +Ellen knew now! It went through her very heart. + +It is the custom in the country to toll the church bell upon +occasion of the death of any one in the township or parish. A +few strokes are rung by way of drawing attention; these are +followed, after a little pause, by a single one, if the knell +is for man, or two for a woman. Then another short pause. Then +follows the number of the years the person has lived, told in +short, rather slow strokes, as one would count them up. After +pausing once more, the tolling begins, and is kept up for some +time; the strokes following in slow and sad succession, each +one being permitted to die quite away before another breaks +upon the ear. + +Ellen had been told of this custom, but habit had never made +it familiar. Only once she had happened to hear this notice of +death given out; and that was long ago; the bell could not be +heard at Miss Fortune's house. It came upon her now with all +the force of novelty and surprise. As the number of the years +of Alice's life was sadly tolled out, every stroke was to her +as if it fell upon a raw nerve. Ellen hid her face in her lap, +and tried to keep from counting, but she could not; and as the +tremulous sound of the last of the twenty-four died away upon +the air, she was shuddering from head to foot. A burst of +tears relieved her when the sound ceased. + +Just then a voice close beside her said low, as if the speaker +might not trust its higher tones "I will lift up mine eyes +unto the hills, from whence cometh my help." + +How differently _that_ sound struck upon Ellen's ear! With an +indescribable air of mingled tenderness, weariness, and +sorrow, she slowly rose from her seat, and put both her arms +round the speaker's neck. Neither said a word; but to Ellen +the arm that held her was more than all words; it was the +dividing line between her and the world on this side +everything, on that side nothing. + +No word was spoken for many minutes. + +"My dear, Ellen," said her brother, softly, "how came you +here?" + +"I don't know," whispered Ellen; "there was nobody there I +couldn't stay in the house." + +"Shall we go home now?" + +"Oh, yes whenever you please." + +But neither moved yet. Ellen had raised her head; she still +stood with her arm upon her brother's shoulder; the eyes of +both were on the scene before them the thoughts of neither. +He presently spoke again. + +"Let us try to love our God better, Ellie, the less we have +left to love in this world; that is His meaning let sorrow +but bring us closer to him. Dear Alice is well she is well, + and if we are made to suffer, we know and we love the hand +that has done it; do we not, Ellen?" + +Ellen put her hand to her face; she thought her heart would +break. He gently drew her to a seat on the stone beside him, +and still keeping his arm round her, slowly and soothingly +went on + +"Think that she is happy; think that she is safe; think +that she is with that blessed One whose face we seek at a +distance satisfied with His likeness instead of wearily +struggling with sin; think that sweetly and easily she has got +home; and it is our home, too. We must weep, because we are +left alone; but for her 'I heard a voice from heaven saying +unto me, Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord!' " + +As he spoke in low and sweet tones, Ellen's tears calmed and +stopped; but she still kept her hands to her face. + +"Shall we go home, Ellie?" said her brother, after another +silence. She rose up instantly, and said, "Yes." But he held +her still, and looking for a moment at the tokens of watching +and grief and care in her countenance, he gently kissed the +pale little face, adding a word of endearment, which almost +broke Ellen's heart again. Then taking her hand, they went +down the mountain together. + + +CHAPTER XLIII. + +Those that were left. + + +The whole Marshman family arrived to-day from Ventnor; some to +see Alice's loved remains, and all to follow them to the +grave. The parsonage could not hold so many; the two Mr. +Marshmans, therefore, with Major and Mrs. Gillespie, made +their quarters at Thirlwall. Margery's hands were full enough +with those that were left. + +In the afternoon, however, she found time for a visit to the +room the room. She was standing at the foot of the bed, +gazing on the sweet face she loved so dearly, when Mrs. +Chauncey and Mrs. Vawse came up for the same purpose. All +three stood some time in silence. + +The bed was strewn with flowers, somewhat singularly disposed. +Upon the pillow, and upon and about the hands, which were on +the breast, were scattered some of the rich late roses roses +and rose-buds, strewn with beautiful and profuse carelessness. +A single stem of white lilies lay on the side of the bed; the +rest of the flowers, a large quantity, covered the feet, +seeming to have been flung there without any attempt at +arrangement. They were of various kinds, chosen, however, with +exquisite taste and feeling. Besides the roses, there were +none that were not either white or distinguished for their +fragrance. The delicate white verbena, the pure feverfew, +mignonette, sweet geranium, white myrtle, the rich-scented +heliotrope, were mingled with the late-blossoming damask and +purple roses; no yellow flowers, no purple, except those +mentioned; even the flaunting petunia, though white, had been +left out by the nice hand that had culled them. But the +arranging of these beauties seemed to have been little more +than attempted; though indeed it might be questioned whether +the finest heart could have bettered the effect of what the +overtasked hand of affection had left half done. Mrs. +Chauncey, however, after a while, began slowly to take a +flower or two from the foot, and place them on other parts of +the bed. + +"Will Mrs. Chauncey pardon my being so bold," said Margery +then, who had looked on with no pleasure while this was doing, +"but if she had seen when those flowers had been put there, it +wouldn't be her wish, I am sure it wouldn't be her wish, to +stir one of them." + +Mrs. Chauncey's hand, which was stretched out for a fourth, +drew back. + +"Why, who put them there?" she asked. + +"Miss Ellen, Ma'am." + +"Where is Ellen?" + +"I think she is sleeping, Ma'am. Poor child! she's the most +wearied of us all, with sorrow and watching," said Margery, +weeping. + +"You saw her bring them up, did you?" + +"I saw her, Ma'am. Oh, will I ever forget it as long as I +live!" + +"Why?" said Mrs. Chauncey, gently. + +"It's a thing one should have seen, Ma'am, to understand. I +don't know as I can tell in well." + +Seeing, however, that Mrs. Chauncey still looked her wish, +Margery went on half under her breath + +"Why, Ma'am, the way it was I had come up to get some linen +out of the closet, for I had watched my time; Mrs. Chauncey +sees, I was afeard of finding Mr. John here, and I knew he was +lying down just then, so " + +"Lying down was he?" said Mrs. Vawse. "I did not know he had +taken any rest to-day." + +"It was very little he took, Ma'am, indeed though there was +need enough I am sure; he had been up with his father the +live-long blessed night. And then the first thing this morning +he was away after Miss Ellen, poor child! wherever she had +betaken herself to; I happened to see her before anybody was +out, going round the corner of the house, and so I knew when +he asked me for her." + +"Was she going after flowers _then?"_ said Mrs. Chauncey. + +"Oh, no, Ma'am it was a long time after; it was this morning +some time. I had come up to the linen closet, knowing Mr. +John was in his room, and I thought I was safe; and I had just +taken two or three pieces on my arm, you know, Ma'am, when +somehow I forgot myself, and forgot what I had come for; and +leaving what I should ha' been a-doing, I was standing there, +looking out this way at the dear features I never thought to +see in death and I had entirely forgotten what I was there +for, Ma'am when I heard Miss Ellen's little footstep coming +softly upstairs. I didn't want her to catch sight of me just +then, so I had just drew myself back a bit, so as I could see +her without her seeing me back in the closet where I was. +But it had like to have got the better of me entirely, Ma'am, +when I see her come in with a lapful of them flowers, and +looking so as she did too! but with much trouble I kept quiet. +She went up and stood by the side of the bed, just where Mrs. +Chauncey is standing, with her sweet, sad, little face it's +the hardest thing to see a child's face look so and the +flowers all gathered up in her frock. It was odd to see her, +she didn't cry not at all only once I saw her brow +wrinkle, but it seemed as if she had a mind not to, for she +put her hand up to her face and held it a little, and then she +began to take out the flowers one by one, and she'd lay a rose +here and a rosebud there, and so; and then she went round to +the other side and laid the lilies, and two or three more +roses on the pillow. But I could see all the while it was +getting too much for her; I see very soon she wouldn't get +through; she just placed two or three more, and one rose there +in that hand, and that was the last. I could see it working in +her face; she turned as pale as her lilies all at once, and +just tossed all the flowers out of her frock on the bed-foot +there that's just as they fell and down she went on her +knees, and her face in her hands on the side of the bed. I +thought no more about my linen," said Margery, weeping "I +couldn't do anything but look at that child kneeling there, +and her flowers and all beside her she used to call her +sister, and that couldn't be a sister to her no more; and +she's without a sister now, to be sure, poor child!" + +"She has a brother, unless I am mistaken," said Mrs. Chauncey, +when she could speak. + +"And that's just what I was trying to tell you, Ma'am. She had +been there five or ten minutes without moving, or more I am +sure I don't know how long it was, I didn't think how time +went when the first thing I knew I heard another step, and +Mr. John came in. I thought, and expected, he was taking some +sleep; but I suppose," said Margery, sighing, "he couldn't +rest. I knew his step, and just drew myself back further. He +came just where you are, Ma'am, and stood with his arms folded +a long time, looking. I don't know how Miss Ellen didn't hear +him come in; but, however, she didn't; and they were both as +still as death, one on one side, and the other on the other +side. And I wondered he didn't see her; but her white dress +and all and I suppose he had no thought but for one thing. I +knew the first minute he did see her, when he looked over and +spied her on the other side of the bed. I see his colour +change; and then his mouth took the look it always did +whenever he sets himself to do anything. He stood a minute, +and then he went round, and knelt down beside her, and softly +took away one of her hands from under her face, and held it in +both of his own, and then he made such a prayer! Oh," said +Margery, her tears falling fast at the recollection, "I never +heard the like! I never did. He gave thanks for Miss Alice +and he had reason enough, to be sure and for himself and +Miss Ellen I wondered to hear him and he prayed for them +too, and others and oh! I thought I couldn't stand and +hear him; and I was afeard to breathe the whole time, lest he +would know I was there. It was the beautifullest prayer I did +ever hear." + +"And how did Ellen behave?" said Mrs. Chauncey, when she could +speak. + +"She didn't stir, nor make the least motion nor sound, till he +had done, and spoke to her. They stood a little while then, +and Mr. John put the rest of the flowers up there round her +hands and the pillow Miss Ellen hadn't put more than half a +dozen; I noticed how he kept hold of Miss Ellen's hand all +the time. I heard her begin to tell him how she didn't finish +the flowers, and he told her 'I saw it all, Ellie,' he said; +and he said, 'it didn't want finishing.' I wondered how he +should see it, but I suppose he did, however. _I_ understood it +very well. They went away downstairs after that." + +"He is beautifully changed," said Mrs. Vawse. + +"I don't know, Ma'am," said Margery; "I've heard that said +afore, but I can't say as I ever could see it. He always was +the same to me always the honourablest, truest, noblest my +husband says he was a bit fiery, but I never could tell that +the one temper was sweeter than the other; only everybody +always did whatever Mr. John wanted, to be sure; but he was +the perfectest gentleman always." + +"I have not seen either Mr. John or Ellen since my mother +came," said Mrs. Chauncey. + +"No, Ma'am," said Margery, "they were out reading under the +trees for a long time; and Miss Ellen came in the kitchen way +a little while ago, and went to lie down." + +"How is Mr. Humphreys?" + +"Oh, I can't tell you, Ma'am he is worse than any one knows +of, I am afraid, unless Mr. John; you will not see him, Ma'am; +he has not been here once, nor don't mean to, I think. It will +go hard with my poor master, I am afraid," said Margery, +weeping; "dear Miss Alice said Miss Ellen was to take her +place; but it would want an angel to do that." + +"Ellen will do a great deal," said Mrs. Vawse; "Mr. Humphreys +loves her well now, I know." + +"So do I, Ma'am, I am sure; and so does every one; but still +" + +Margery broke off her sentence, and sorrowfully went +downstairs. Mrs. Chauncey moved no more flowers. + +Late in the afternoon of the next day Margery came softly into +Ellen's room. + +"Miss Ellen, dear, you are awake, aren't you?" + +"Yes, Margery," said Ellen, sitting up in bed; "come in. What +is it?" + +"I came to ask Miss Ellen if she _could_ do me a great favour? +There's a strange gentleman come, and nobody has seen him yet, +and it don't seem right. He has been here this some time." + +"Have you told Mr. John?" + +"No, Miss Ellen; he's in the library with my master; and +somehow I durstn't go to the door; mayhap they wouldn't be +best pleased. _Would_ Miss Ellen mind telling Mr. John of the +gentleman's being here?" + +Ellen would mind it very much, there was no doubt of that; +Margery could hardly have asked her to put a greater force +upon herself; she did not say so. + +"You are sure he is there, Margery?" + +"I am quite sure, Miss Ellen. I am very sorry to disturb you; +but if you wouldn't mind I am ashamed to have the gentleman +left to himself so long." + +"I'll do it, Margery." + +She got up, slipped on her shoes, and mechanically smoothing +her hair, set off to the library. On the way, she almost +repented her willingness to oblige Margery; the errand was +marvellously disagreeable to her. She had never gone to that +room except with Alice never entered it uninvited. She could +hardly make up her mind to knock at the door. But she had +promised; it must be done. + +The first fearful tap was too light to arouse any mortal ears. +At the second, though not much better, she heard some one +move, and John opened the door. Without waiting to hear her +speak, he immediately drew her in, very unwillingly on her +part, and led her silently up to his father. The old gentleman +was sitting in his great study-chair, with a book open at his +side. He turned from it as she came up, took her hand in his, +and held it for a few moments without speaking. Ellen dared +not raise her eyes. + +"My little girl," said he, very gravely, though not without a +tone of kindness, too "are you coming here to cheer my +loneliness?" + +Ellen in vain struggled to speak an articulate word; it was +impossible; she suddenly stooped down and touched her lips to +the hand that lay on the arm of the chair. He put the hand +tenderly upon her head. + +"God bless you," said he, "abundantly, for all the love you +showed her. Come if you will and be, as far as a withered +heart will let you, all that she wished. All is yours except +what will be buried with her." + +Ellen was awed and pained very much. Not because the words and +manner were sad and solemn; it was the _tone_ that distressed +her. There was no tearfulness in it; it trembled a little; it +seemed to come indeed from a withered heart. She shook with +the effort she made to control herself. John asked her +presently what she had come for. + +"A gentleman," said Ellen "there's a gentleman, a stranger." + +He went immediately out to see him, leaving her standing +there. Ellen did not know whether to go too, or stay; she +thought, from his not taking her with him, he wished her to +stay; she stood doubtfully. Presently she heard steps coming +back along the hall steps of two persons the door opened, +and the strange gentleman came in. No stranger to Ellen! she +knew him in a moment it was her old friend, her friend of +the boat Mr. George Marshman. + +Mr. Humphreys rose up to meet him, and the two gentlemen shook +hands in silence. Ellen at first had shrunk out of the way, to +the other side of the room, and now, when she saw her +opportunity, she was going to make her escape; but John gently +detained her; and she stood still by his side, though with a +kind of feeling that it was not there the best place or time +for her old friend to recognise her. He was sitting by Mr. +Humphreys, and for the present quite occupied with him. Ellen +thought nothing of what they were saying; with her eyes +eagerly fixed upon Mr. Marshman, she was reading memory's long +story over again. The same pleasant look and kind tone that +she remembered so well came to comfort her in her first sorrow + the old way of speaking, and even of moving an arm or hand +the familiar figure and face; how they took Ellen's thoughts +back to the deck of that steamboat, the hymns, the talks! the +love and kindness that led and persuaded her so faithfully and +eventually to do her duty it was all present again; and +Ellen gazed at him as at a picture of the past, forgetting for +the moment everything else. The same love and kindness were +endeavouring now to say something for Mr. Humphreys' relief; +it was a hard task. The old gentleman heard and answered, for +the most part briefly, but so as to show that his friend +laboured in vain; the bitterness and hardness of grief were +unallayed yet. It was not till John made some slight remark, +that Mr. Marshman turned his head that way; he looked for a +moment in some surprise, and then said, his countenance +lightening, "Is that Ellen Montgomery?" + +Ellen sprang across at that word to take his outstretched +hand. But as she felt the well-remembered grasp of it, and met +the old look, the thought of which she had treasured up for +years it was too much. Back as in a flood to her heart +seemed to come at once all the thoughts and feelings of the +time since then; the difference of this meeting from the +joyful one she had so often pictured to herself; the sorrow of +that time mixed with the sorrow now; and the sense that the +very hand that had wiped those first tears away, was the one +now laid in the dust by death. All thronged on her heart at +once; and it was too much. She had scarce touched Mr. +Marshman's hand when she hastily withdrew her own, and gave +way to an overwhelming burst of sorrow. It was infectious. +There was such an utter absence of all bitterness or hardness +in the tone of this grief; there was so touching an expression +of submission mingled with it, that even Mr. Humphreys was +overcome. Ellen was not the only subdued weeper there not +the only one whose tears came from a broken-up heart. For a +few minutes the silence of stifled sobs was in the room, till +Ellen recovered enough to make her escape, and then the colour +of sorrow was lightened, in one breast at least. + +"Brother," said Mr. Humphreys, "I can hear you now better than +I could a little while ago. I had almost forgotten that God is +good. 'Light in the darkness,' I see it now. That child has +given me a lesson." + +Ellen did not know what had passed around her, nor what had +followed her quitting the room. But she thought when John came +to the tea-table he looked relieved. If his general kindness +and tenderness of manner towards herself could have been +greater than usual, she might have thought it was that night; +but she only thought he felt better. + +Mr. Marshman was not permitted to leave the house. He was a +great comfort to everybody. Not himself overburdened with +sorrow, he was able to make that effort for the good of the +rest which no one yet had been equal to. The whole family, +except Mr. Humphreys, were gathered together at this time; and +his grave, cheerful, and unceasing kindness, made that by far +the most comfortable meal that had been taken. It was +exceeding grateful to Ellen to see and hear him, from the old +remembrance as well as the present effect. And he had not +forgotten his old kindness for her; she saw it in his look, +his words, his voice, shown in every way; and the feeling that +she had got her old friend again, and should never lose him, +now gave her more deep pleasure than anything else could +possibly have done at that time. His own family, too, had not +seen him in a long time, so his presence was matter of general +satisfaction. + +Later in the evening, Ellen was sitting beside him on the +sofa, looking and listening he was like a piece of old music +to her when John came to the back of the sofa and said he +wanted to speak to her. She went with him to the other side of +the room. + +"Ellie," he said, in a low voice, "I think my father would +like to hear you sing a hymn do you think you could?" + +Ellen looked up, with a peculiar mixture of uncertainty and +resolution in her countenance, and said, "Yes." + +"Not if it will pain you too much and not unless you think +you can surely go through with it, Ellen," he said, gently. + +"No," said Ellen "I will try." + +"Will it not give you too much pain? do you think you can?" + +"No I will try," she repeated. + +As she went along the hall she said and resolved to herself +that she _would_ do it. The library was dark; coming from the +light, Ellen at first could see nothing. John placed her in a +chair and went away himself to a little distance, where he +remained perfectly still. She covered her face with her hands +for a minute, and prayed for strength; she was afraid to try. + +Alice and her brother were remarkable for beauty of voice and +utterance. The latter, Ellen in part caught from them; in the +former she thought herself greatly inferior. Perhaps she +underrated herself: her voice, though not indeed powerful, was +low and sweet, and very clear; and the entire simplicity and +feeling with which she sang hymns, was more effectual than any +higher qualities of tone and compass. She had been very much +accustomed to sing with Alice, who excelled in beautiful truth +and simplicity of expression; listening with delight, as she +often had done, and often joining with her, Ellen had caught +something of her manner. + +She thought nothing of all this now; she had a trying task to +go through. Sing! then and there! And what should she sing? +All that class of hymns that bore directly on the subject of +their sorrow must be left on one side; she hardly dared think +of them. Instinctively she took up another class, that without +baring the wound would lay the balm close to it. A few minutes +of deep stillness were in the dark room; then very low, and in +tones that trembled a little, rose the words + + +"How sweet the name of Jesus sounds +In a believer's ear! +It smoothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, +And drives away his fear." + + +The tremble in her voice ceased, and she went on + + +"It makes the wounded spirit whole, +And calms the troubled beast; +'T is manna to the hungry soul, +And to the weary, rest. + + +"By Him my prayers acceptance gain, +Although with sin defiled; +Satan accuses me in vain, +And I am own'd a child. + + +Weak is the effort of my heart, +And cold my warmest thought +But when I see thee as thou art, +I'll praise thee as I ought. + + +Till then, I would thy love proclaim +With every lab'ring breath; +And may the music of thy name +Refresh my soul in death." + + +Ellen paused a minute. There was not a sound to be heard in +the room. She thought of the hymn, "Loving Kindness;" but the +tune, and the spirit of the words was too lively. Her mother's +favourite, " 'T is my happiness below," but Ellen could not +venture that; she strove to forget it as fast as possible. She +sang clearly and sweetly as ever now + + +"Hark, my soul, it is the Lord, +'T is thy Saviour, hear his word, +Jesus speaks, and speaks to thee: +'Say, poor sinner, lovest thou me? + + +" 'I deliver'd thee when bound, +And when bleeding heal'd thy wound; +Sought thee wandering, set thee right +Turn'd thy darkness into light. + + +" 'Can a mother's tender care +Cease toward the child she bare? +Yea _she_ may forgetful be, +Yet will I remember thee. + + +" 'Mine is an unchanging love; +Higher than the heights above, +Deeper than the depths beneath, +Free and faithful, strong as death. + + +" 'Thou shalt see my glory soon, +When the work of life is done, +Partner of my throne shalt be +Say, poor sinner, lovest thou me? + + +"Lord, it is my chief complaint +That my love is weak and faint; +Yet I love thee and adore +Oh for grace to love thee more!" + + +Ellen's task was no longer painful, but most delightful. She +hoped she was doing some good; and that hope enabled her, +after the first trembling beginning, to go on without any +difficulty. She was not thinking of herself. It was very well +she could not see the effect upon her auditors. Through the +dark, her eyes could only just discern a dark figure stretched +upon the sofa, and another standing by the mantle-piece. The +room was profoundly still, except when she was singing. The +choice of hymns gave her the greatest trouble. She thought of +"Jerusalem, my happy home;" but it would not do; she and Alice +had too often sung it in strains of joy. Happily came to her +mind the beautiful + + +"How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord," &c. + + +She went through all seven long verses. Still when Ellen +paused at the end of this, the breathless silence seemed to +invite her to go on. She waited a minute to gather breath. The +blessed words had gone down into her very heart; did they ever +seem half so sweet before? She was cheered and strengthened, +and thought she could go through with the next hymn, though it +had been much loved and often used, both by her mother and +Alice: + + +"Jesus, lover of my soul, +Let me to thy bosom fly, +While the billows near me roll, +While the tempest still is nigh. +Hide me, O my Saviour, hide, +Till the storm of life be past +Safe into the haven guide, +Oh, receive my soul at last! + + +"Other refuge have I none, +Hangs my helpless soul on thee +Leave, ah! leave me not alone! +Still support and comfort me. +All my trust on thee is stay'd, +All my help from thee I bring; +Cover my defenceless head +Beneath the shadow of thy wing. + + +"Thou, O Christ, art all I want; +More than all in thee I find; +Raise the fallen, cheer the faint, +Heal the sick, and lead the blind. +Just and holy is thy name, +I am all unrighteousness; +Vile and full of sin I am, +Thou art full of truth and grace." + + +Still silence; "silence that spoke!" Ellen did not know what +it said, except that her hearers did not wish her to stop. Her +next was a favourite hymn of them all + + +"What are these in bright array?" &c. + + +Ellen had allowed her thoughts to travel too far along with +the words, for in the last lines her voice was unsteady and +faint. She was fain to make a longer pause than usual to +recover herself. But in vain; the tender nerve was touched; +there was no stilling its quivering. + +"Ellen!" said Mr. Humphreys then, after a few minutes. She +rose and went to the sofa. He folded her close to his breast. + +"Thank you, my child," he said, presently "you have been a +comfort to me. Nothing but a choir of angels could have been +sweeter." + +As Ellen went away back through the hall, her tears almost +choked her; but for all that there was a strong throb of +pleasure at her heart. + +"I have been a comfort to him," she repeated. "Oh, dear Alice! + so I will." + + +CHAPTER XLIV. + +The little spirit that haunted the big house. + + +The whole Marshman family returned to Ventnor immediately +after the funeral, Mr. George excepted; he stayed with Mr. +Humphreys over the Sabbath, and preached for him, and, much to +every one's pleasure, lingered still a day or two longer; then +he was obliged to leave them. John also must go back to +Doncaster for a few weeks; he would not be able to get home +again before the early part of August. For the month between, +and as much longer, indeed, as possible, Mrs. Marshman wished +to have Ellen at Ventnor; assuring her that it was to be her +home always whenever she chose to make it so. At first, +neither Mrs. Marshman nor her daughters would take any denial; +and old Mr. Marshman was fixed upon it. But Ellen begged with +tears that she might stay at home and begin at once, as far as +she could, to take Alice's place. Her kind friends insisted +that it would do her harm to be left alone for so long at such +a season. Mr. Humphreys at the best of times kept very much to +himself, and now he would more than ever; she would be very +lonely. "But how lonely he will be if I go away!" said Ellen +"I can't go." Finding that her heart was set upon it, and that +it would be a real grief to her to go to Ventnor, John at last +joined to excuse her; and he made an arrangement with Mrs. +Vawse instead, that she should come and stay with Ellen at the +parsonage till he came back. This gave Ellen great +satisfaction; and her kind Ventnor friends were obliged +unwillingly to leave her. + +The first few days after John's departure were indeed sad days + very sad to every one; it could not be otherwise. Ellen +drooped miserably. She had, however, the best possible +companion in her old Swiss friend. Her good sense, her steady +cheerfulness, her firm principle, were always awake for +Ellen's good ever ready to comfort her, to cheer her, to +prevent her from giving undue way to sorrow, to urge her to +useful exertion. Affection and gratitude to the living and the +dead, gave powerful aid to these efforts. Ellen rose up in the +morning, and lay down at night, with the present pressing wish +to do and be, for the ease and comfort of her adopted father +and brother, all that it was possible for her. Very soon, so +soon as she could rouse herself to anything, she began to turn +over in her mind all manner of ways and means for this end. +And in general, whatever Alice would have wished, what John +did wish, was law to her. + +"Margery," said Ellen, one day, "I wish you would tell me all +the things Alice used to do; so that I may begin to do them, +you know, as soon as I can." + +"What things, Miss Ellen?" + +"I mean the things she used to do about the house, or to help +you don't you know? all sorts of things. I want to know +them all, so that I may do them as she did. I want to very +much." + +"Oh, Miss Ellen, dear," said Margery, tearfully, "you are too +little and tender to do them things I'd be sorry to see you, +indeed!" + +"Why, no, I am not, Margery," said Ellen; "don't you know how +I used to do at Aunt Fortune's? Now, tell me, please, dear +Margery! If I can't do it, I won't, you know." + +"Oh, Miss Ellen, she used to see to various things about the +house I don't know as I can tell 'em all directly; some was +to help me; and some to please her father, or Mr. John, if he +was at home; she thought of every one before herself, sure +enough." + +"Well, what, Margery? what are they? Tell me all you can +remember." + +"Why, Miss Ellen for one thing she used to go into the +library every morning, to put it in order, and dust the books +and papers and things; in fact, she took the charge of that +room entirely: I never went into it at all, unless once or +twice in the year, or to wash the windows." + +Ellen looked grave; she thought with herself there might be a +difficulty in the way of her taking this part of Alice's daily +duties; she did not feel that she had the freedom of the +library. + +"And then," said Margery, "she used to skim the cream for me, +most mornings, when I'd be busy; and wash up the breakfast +things " + +"Oh, I forgot all about the breakfast things!" exclaimed Ellen + "how could I! I'll do them to be sure, after this. I never +thought of them, Margery. And I'll skim the cream too." + +"Dear Miss Ellen, I wouldn't want you to: I didn't mention it +for that, but you was wishing me to tell you I don't want +you to trouble your dear little head about such work. It was +more the thoughtfulness that cared about me than the help of +all she could do, though that wasn't a little I'll get along +well enough." + +"But I should like to it would make me happier; and don't +you think I want to help you too, Margery?" + +"The Lord bless you, Miss Ellen," said Margery, in a sort of +desperation, setting down one iron and taking up another; +"don't talk in that way, or you'll upset me entirely. I ain't +a bit better than a child," said she, her tears falling fast +on the sheet she was hurriedly ironing. + +"What else, dear Margery?" said Ellen presently. "Tell me what +else?" + +"Well, Miss Ellen," said Margery, dashing away the water from +either eye, "she used to look over the clothes when they went +up from the wash; and put them away; and mend them if there +was any places wanted mending." + +"I am afraid I don't know how to manage that," said Ellen, +very gravely. "There is one thing I can do I can darn +stockings very nicely: but that's only one kind of mending. I +don't know much about the other kinds." + +"Ah, well, but _she_ did, however," said Margery, searching in +her basket of clothes for some particular pieces. "A beautiful +mender she was, to be sure! look here, Miss Ellen just see +that patch the way it is put on so evenly by a thread all +round; and the stitches, see and see the way this rent is +darned down oh, that was the way she did everything!" + +"I can't do it so," said Ellen, sighing "but I can learn +that I can do. You will teach me, Margery won't you?" + +"Indeed, Miss Ellen, dear, it's more than I can myself; but I +will tell you who will, and that's Mrs. Vawse. I am thinking +it was her she learned of in the first place, but I ain't +certain. Anyhow, she's a first-rate hand." + +"Then I'll get her to teach me," said Ellen: "that will do +very nicely. And now Margery, what else?" + +"Oh, dear, Miss Ellen, I don't know; there was a thousand +little things that I'd only recollect at the minute; she'd set +the table for me when my hands was uncommon full: and often +she'd come out and make some little thing for the master when +I wouldn't have the time to do the same myself; and I can't +tell one can't think of those things but just at the minute. +Dear Miss Ellen, I'd be sorry, indeed, to see you a-trying +your little hands to do all that she done." + +"Never mind, Margery," said Ellen and she threw her arms +round the kind old woman as she spoke "I won't trouble you +and you won't be troubled if I am awkward about anything at +first, will you?" + +Margery could only throw down her holder to return most +affectionately as well as respectfully Ellen's caress, and +press a very hearty kiss upon her forehead. + +Ellen next went to Mrs. Vawse, to beg her help in the mending +and patching line. Her old friend was very glad to see her +take up anything with interest, and readily agreed to do her +best in the matter. So some old clothes were looked up; pieces +of linen, cotton, and flannel gathered together: a large +basket found to hold all these rags of shape and no shape; and +for the next week or two Ellen was indefatigable. She would +sit making vain endeavours to arrange a large linen patch +properly, till her cheeks were burning with excitement; and +bend over a darn, doing her best to make invisible stitches, +till Mrs. Vawse was obliged to assure her it was quite +unnecessary to take _so much_ pains. Taking pains, however, is +the sure way to success. Ellen could not rest satisfied till +she had equalled Alice's patching and darning; and though when +Mrs. Vawse left her she had not quite reached that point, she +was bidding fair to do so in a little while. + +In other things she was more at home. She could skim milk well +enough, and immediately began to do it for Margery. She at +once also took upon herself the care of the parlour cupboard +and all the things in it, which she well knew had been Alice's +office; and thanks to Miss Fortune's training, even Margery +was quite satisfied with her neat and orderly manner of doing +it. Ellen begged her, when the clothes came up from the wash, +to show her where everything went, so that for the future she +might be able to put them away; and she studied the shelves of +the linen closet, and the chests of drawers in Mr. Humphreys' +room, till she almost knew them by heart. As to the library, +she dared not venture. She saw Mr. Humphreys at meals and at +prayers only then. He had never asked her to come into his +study since the night she sang to him; and as for _her_ asking, +nothing could have been more impossible. Even when he was out +of the house, out by the hour, Ellen never thought of going +where she had not been expressly permitted to go. + +When Mr. Van Brunt informed his wife of Ellen's purpose to +desert her service, and make her future home at the parsonage, +the lady's astonishment was only less than her indignation; +the latter not at all lessened by learning that Ellen was to +become the adopted child of the house. For a while her words +of displeasure were poured forth in a torrent; Mr. Van Brunt +meantime saying very little, and standing by like a steadfast +rock that the waves dash _past_, not _upon_. She declared this was +"the cap-sheaf of Miss Humphreys' doings; she _might_ have been +wise enough to have expected as much; she wouldn't have been +such a fool if she had! This was what she had let Ellen go +there for! a pretty return!" But she went on. "She wondered +who they thought they had to deal with: did they think she was +going to let Ellen go in that way? _she_ had the first and only +right to her; and Ellen had no more business to go and give +herself away than one of her oxen; they would find it out, she +guessed, pretty quick; Mr. John and all; she'd have her back +in no time!" What were her thoughts and feelings, when, after +having spent her breath, she found her husband quietly opposed +to this conclusion, words cannot tell. _Her_ words could not; +she was absolutely dumb, till he had said his say; and then, +appalled by the serenity of his manner, she left indignation +on one side for the present, and began to argue the matter. +But Mr. Van Brunt coolly said he had promised: she might get +as many help as she liked he would pay for them, and +welcome; but Ellen would have to stay where she was. He had +promised Miss Alice; and he wouldn't break his word "for king, +lords, and commons." A most extraordinary expletive for a good +republican which Mr. Van Brunt had probably inherited from +his father and grandfather. What can waves do against a rock? +Miss Fortune disdained a struggle which must end in her own +confusion, and wisely kept her chagrin to herself; never even +approaching the subject afterwards, with him or any other +person. Ellen had left the whole matter to Mr. Van Brunt, +expecting a storm, and not wishing to share it. Happily it all +blew over. + +As the month drew to an end, and indeed long before, Ellen's +thoughts began to go forward eagerly to John coming home. She +had learned by this time how to mend clothes; she had grown +somewhat wonted to her new round of little household duties; +in everything else the want of him was felt. Study flagged; +though, knowing what his wish would be, and what her duty was, +she faithfully tried to go on with it. She had no heart for +riding or walking by herself. She was lonely; she was +sorrowful; she was weary; all Mrs. Vawse's pleasant society +was not worth the mere knowledge that _he_ was in the house; she +longed for his coming. + +He had written what day they might expect him. But when it +came, Ellen found that her feeling had changed; it did not +look the bright day she had expected it would. Up to that time +she had thought only of herself; now she remembered what sort +of a coming home this must be to him; and she dreaded almost +as much as she wished for the moment of his arrival. Mrs. +Vawse was surprised to see that her face was sadder that day +than it had been for many past; she could not understand it. +Ellen did not explain. It was late in the day before he +reached home, and her anxious watch of hope and fear for the +sound of his horse's feet grew very painful. She busied +herself with setting the tea-table; it was all done; and she +could by no means do anything else. She could not go to the +door to listen there; she remembered too well the last time; +and she knew he would remember it. + +He came at last. Ellen's feeling had judged rightly of his, +for the greeting was without a word on either side; and when +he left the room to go to his father, it was very, very long +before he came back. And it seemed to Ellen for several days +that he was more grave, and talked less, than even the last +time he had been at home. She was sorry when Mrs. Vawse +proposed to leave them. But the old lady wisely said they +would all feel better when she was gone; and it was so. Truly +as she was respected and esteemed on all sides, it was felt a +relief by every one of the family when she went back to her +mountain top. They were left to themselves; they saw what +their numbers were; there was no restraint upon looks, words, +or silence. Ellen saw at once that the gentlemen felt easier +that was enough to make her so. The extreme oppression that +had grieved and disappointed her the first few days after +John's return, gave place to a softened gravity; and the +household fell again into its old ways; only that upon every +brow there was a chastened air of sorrow, in everything that +was said a tone of remembrance, and that a little figure was +going about where Alice's used to move as mistress of the +house. + +Thanks to her brother, that little figure was an exceeding +busy one. She had in the first place her household duties, in +discharging which she was perfectly untiring. From the cream +skimmed for Margery, and the cups of coffee poured out every +morning for Mr. Humphreys and her brother, to the famous +mending, which took up often one half of Saturday, whatever +she did was done with her best diligence and care; and from +love to both the dead and the living, Ellen's zeal never +slackened. These things, however, filled but a small part of +her time, let her be as particular as she would; and Mr. John +effectually hindered her from being too particular. He soon +found a plenty for both her and himself to do. + +Not that they ever forgot, or tried to forget Alice; on the +contrary, they sought to remember her, humbly, calmly, +hopefully, thankfully! By diligent performance of duty, by +Christian faith, by conversation and prayer, they strove to do +this; and after a time succeeded. Sober that winter was, but +it was very far from being an unhappy one. + +"John," said Ellen, one day, some time after Mrs. Vawse had +left them, "do you think Mr. Humphreys would let me go into +his study every day when he is out, to put it in order and +dust the books?" + +"Certainly. But why does not Margery do it?" + +"She does, I believe, but she never used to; and I should like +to do it very much if I was sure he would not dislike it. I +would be careful not to disturb anything; I would leave +everything just as I found it." + +"You may go when you please, and do what you please there, +Ellie." + +"But I don't like to I couldn't without speaking to him +first; I should be afraid he might come back and find me +there, and he would think I hadn't had leave." + +"And you wish _me_ to speak to him is that it? Cannot you +muster resolution enough for that, Ellie?" + +Ellen was satisfied, for she knew by his tone he would do what +she wanted. + +"Father," said John, the next morning at breakfast, "Ellen +wishes to take upon herself the daily care of your study, but +she is afraid to venture there without being assured it will +please you to see her there." + +The old gentleman laid his hand affectionately on Ellen's +head, and told her she was welcome to come and go when she +would the whole house was hers. + +The grave kindness and tenderness of the tone and action +spoiled Ellen's breakfast. She could not look at anybody nor +hold up her head for the rest of the time. + +As Alice had anticipated, her brother was called to take the +charge of a church at Randolph, and at the same time another +more distant was offered him. He refused them both, rightly +judging that his place for the present was at home. But the +call from Randolph being pressed upon him very much, he at +length agreed to preach for them during the winter; riding +thither for the purpose every Saturday, and returning to +Carra-carra on Monday. + +As the winter wore one, a grave cheerfulness stole over the +household. Ellen little thought how much she had to do with +it. She never heard Margery tell her husband, which she often +did with great affection, that "that blessed child was the +light of the house." And those who felt it the most said +nothing. Ellen was sure, indeed, from the way in which Mr. +Humphreys spoke to her, looked at her, now and then laid his +hand on her head, and sometimes, very rarely, kissed her +forehead, that he loved her and loved to see her about; and +that her wish of supplying Alice's place was in some little +measure fulfilled. Few as those words and looks were, they +said more to Ellen than whole discourses would from other +people: the least of them gladdened her heart with the feeling +that she was a comfort to him. But she never knew how much. +Deep as the gloom still over him was, Ellen never dreamed how +much deeper it would have been but for the little figure +flitting round and filling up the vacancy; how much he reposed +on the gentle look of affection, the pleasant voice, the +watchful thoughtfulness that never left anything undone that +she could do for his pleasure. Perhaps he did not know it +himself. She was not sure he even noticed many of the little +things she daily did or tried to do for him. Always silent and +reserved, he was more so now than ever; she saw him little, +and very seldom long at a time, unless when they were riding +to church together; he was always in his study or abroad. But +the trifles she thought he did not see were noted and +registered, and repaid with all the affection he had to give. + +As for Mr. John, it never came into Ellen's head to think +whether she was a comfort to him; he was a comfort to _her;_ she +looked at it in quite another point of view. He had gone to +his old sleeping-room upstairs, which Margery had settled with +herself he would make his study; and for that he had taken the +sitting-room. This was Ellen's study too, so she was +constantly with him; and of the quietest she thought her +movements would have to be. + +"What are you stepping so softly for?" said he, one day, +catching her hand as she was passing near him. + +"You were busy I thought you were busy," said Ellen. + +"And what then?" + +"I was afraid of disturbing you." + +"You never disturb me," said he; "you need not fear it. Step +as you please, and do not shut the doors carefully. I see you +and hear you; but without any disturbance." + +Ellen found it was so. But she was an exception to the general +rule; other people disturbed him, as she had one or two +occasions of knowing. + +Of one thing she was perfectly sure, whatever he might be +doing that he saw and heard her; and equally sure, that if +anything were not right, she should sooner or later hear of +it. But this was a censorship Ellen rather loved than feared. +In the first place, she was never misunderstood; in the +second, however ironical and severe he might be to others +and Ellen knew he could be both when there was occasion he +never was either to her. With great plainness always, but with +an equally happy choice of time and manner, he either said or +looked what he wished her to understand. This happened, +indeed, only about comparative trifles; to have seriously +displeased him Ellen would have thought the last great evil +that could fall upon her in the world. + +One day Margery came into the room with a paper in her hand. + +"Miss Ellen," said she in a low tone "here is Anthony Fox +again he has brought another of his curious letters, that he +wants to know if Miss Ellen will be so good as to write out +for him once more. He says he is ashamed to trouble you so +much." + +Ellen was reading, comfortably ensconced in the corner of the +wide sofa. She gave a glance, a most ungratified one, at the +very original document in Margery's hand. Unpromising it +certainly looked. + +"Another! Dear me! I wonder if there isn't somebody else he +could get to do it for him, Margery? I think I have had my +share. You don't know what a piece of work it is to copy out +one of those scrawls. It takes me ever so long, in the first +place, to find out what he has written, and then to put it so +that any one else can make sense of it I've got about enough +of it. Don't you suppose he could find plenty of other people +to do it for him?" + +"I don't know, Miss Ellen; I suppose he could." + +"Then ask him, do; won't you, Margery? I'm so tired of it! and +this is the third one; and I've got something else to do. Ask +him if there isn't somebody else he can get to do it; if there +isn't, I will; tell him I am busy." + +Margery withdrew, and Ellen buried herself again in her book. +Anthony Fox was a poor Irishman, whose uncouth attempts at a +letter Ellen had once offered to write out and make straight +for him, upon hearing Margery tell of his lamenting that he +could not make one fit to send _home_ to his mother. + +Presently Margery came in again, stopping this time at the +table, which Mr. John had pushed to the far side of the room, +to get away from the fire. + +"I beg your pardon, Sir," she said; "I am ashamed to be so +troublesome but this Irish body, this Anthony Fox, has +begged me, and I didn't know how to refuse him, to come in and +ask for a sheet of paper and a pen for him, Sir he wants to +copy a letter if Mr. John would be so good; a quill pen, +Sir, if you please; he cannot write with any other." + +"No," said John, coolly. "Ellen will do it." + +Margery looked in some doubt from the table to the sofa, but +Ellen instantly rose up, and with a burning cheek came forward +and took the paper from the hand where Margery still held it. + +"Ask him to wait a little while, Margery," she, said +hurriedly; "I'll do it as soon as I can tell him in half an +hour." + +It was not a very easy nor quick job. Ellen worked at it +patiently, and finished it well by the end of the half-hour; +though with a burning cheek still; and a dimness over her eyes +frequently obliged her to stop till she could clear them. It +was done, and she carried it out to the kitchen herself. + +The poor man's thanks were very warm; but that was not what +Ellen wanted. She could not rest till she had got another word +from her brother. He was busy; she dared not speak to him; she +sat fidgeting and uneasy in the corner of the sofa till it was +time to get ready for riding. She had plenty of time to make +up her mind about the right and the wrong of her own conduct. + +During the ride he was just as usual, and she began to think +he did not mean to say anything more on the matter. Pleasant +talk and pleasant exercise had almost driven it out of her +head, when as they were walking their horses over a level +place, he suddenly began + +"By-the-bye, you are too busy, Ellie," said he. "Which of your +studies shall we cut off?" + +"_Please_, Mr. John," said Ellen, blushing, "don't say anything +about that! I was not studying at all I was just amusing +myself with a book I was only selfish and lazy." + +"_Only_ I would rather you were too busy, Ellie." + +Ellen's eyes filled. + +"I was wrong," she said "I knew it at the time at least, +as soon as you spoke I knew it; and a little before; I was +very wrong!" + +And his keen eye saw that the confession was not out of +compliment to him merely; it came from the heart. + +"You are right now," he said, smiling. "But how are your +reins?" + +Ellen's heart was at rest again. + +"Oh, I forgot them," said she, gaily: "I was thinking of +something else." + +"You must not talk when you are riding, unless you can +contrive to manage two things at once; and no more lose +command of your horse than you would of yourself." + +Ellen's eye met his, with all the contrition, affection, and +ingenuousness that even he wished to see there; and they put +their horses to the canter. + +This winter was in many ways a very precious one to Ellen. +French gave her now no trouble; she was a clever +arithmetician; she knew geography admirably, and was tolerably +at home in both English and American history; the way was +cleared for the course of improvement in which her brother's +hand led and helped her. He put her into Latin; carried on the +study of natural philosophy they had begun the year before, +and which with his instructions was perfectly delightful to +Ellen; he gave her some works of stronger reading than she had +yet tried, besides histories in French and English, and higher +branches of arithmetic. These things were not crowded together +so as to fatigue, nor hurried through so as to overload. +Carefully and thoroughly she was obliged to put her mind +through every subject they entered upon; and just at that age, +opening as her understanding was, it grappled eagerly with all +that he gave her, as well from love to learning as from love +to him. In reading, too, she began to take new and strong +delight. Especially two or three new English periodicals, +which John sent for on purpose for her, were mines of pleasure +to Ellen. There was no fiction in them, either; they were as +full of instruction as of interest. At all times of the day +and night, in her intervals of business, Ellen might be seen +with one of these in her hand, nestled among the cushions of +the sofa, or on a little bench by the side of the fireplace in +the twilight, where she could have the benefit of the blaze, +which she loved to read by as well as ever. Sorrowful +remembrances were then flown, all things present were out of +view, and Ellen's face was dreamingly happy. + +It was well there was always somebody by, who whatever he +might himself be doing, never lost sight of her. If ever Ellen +was in danger of bending too long over her studies, or +indulging herself too much in the sofa-corner, she was sure to +be broken off to take an hour or two of smart exercise, riding +or walking, or to recite some lesson (and their recitations +were very lively things), or to read aloud, or to talk. +Sometimes, if he saw that she seemed to be drooping or a +little sad, he would come and sit down by her side, or call +her to his, find out what she was thinking about, and then, +instead of slurring it over, talk of it fairly, and set it +before her in such a light that it was impossible to think of +it again gloomily, for that day at least. Sometimes he took +other ways, but never, when he was present, allowed her long +to look weary or sorrowful. He often read to her, and every +day made her read aloud to him. This Ellen disliked very much +at first, and ended with as much liking it. She had an +admirable teacher. He taught her how to manage her voice, and +how to manage the language, in both which he excelled himself, +and was determined that she should; and, besides this, their +reading often led to talking that Ellen delighted in. Always +when he was making copies for her she read to him, and once at +any rate in the course of the day. + +Every day, when the weather would permit, the Black Prince and +the Brownie, with their respective riders, might be seen +abroad in the country, far and wide. In the course of their +rides, Ellen's horsemanship was diligently perfected. Very +often their turning-place was on the top of the Cat's Back, +and the horses had a rest and Mrs. Vawse a visit before they +went down again. They had long walks, too, by hill and dale; +pleasantly silent or pleasantly talkative all pleasant to +Ellen! + +Her only lonely or sorrowful time was when John was gone to +Randolph. It began early Saturday morning, and perhaps ended +with Sunday night; for all Monday was hope and expectation. +Even Saturday she had not much time to mope; that was the day +for her great week's mending. When John was gone, and her +morning affairs were out of the way, Ellen brought out her +work-basket, and established herself on the sofa for a quiet +day's sewing without the least fear of interruption. But +sewing did not always hinder thinking. And then, certainly, +the room did seem very empty, and very still; and the clock, +which she never heard the rest of the week, kept ticking an +ungracious reminder that she was alone. Ellen would sometimes +forget it, in the intense interest of some nice little piece +of repair which must be exquisitely done in a wrist-band or a +glove; and then perhaps Margery would softly open the door and +come in. + +"Miss Ellen, dear, you're lonesome enough; isn't there +something I can do for you? I can't rest for thinking of your +being here all by yourself." + +"Oh, never mind, Margery," said Ellen, smiling "I am doing +very well. I am living in hopes of Monday. Come and look here, +Margery how will that do? don't you think I am learning to +mend?" + +"It's beautiful, Miss Ellen! I can't make out how you've +learned so quick. I'll tell Mr. John some time who does these +things for him." + +"No, indeed, Margery! don't you. _Please_ not, Margery. I like +to do it very much, indeed, but I don't want he should know +it, nor Mr. Humphreys. Now you won't, Margery, will you?" + +"Miss Ellen, dear, I wouldn't do the least little thing as +would be worrisome to you, for the whole world. Aren't you +tired sitting here all alone?" + +"Oh, sometimes a little," said Ellen, sighing. "I can't help +that, you know." + +"I feel it even out there in the kitchen," said Margery; "I +feel it lonesome hearing the house so still I miss the want +of Mr. John's step up and down the room. How fond he is of +walking so, to be sure! How do you manage, Miss Ellen, with +him making his study here? don't you have to keep uncommon +quiet?" + +"No," said Ellen "no quieter than I like. I do just as I +have a mind to." + +"I thought, to be sure," said Margery, "he would have taken +upstairs for his study, or the next room, one or t'other; he +used to be mighty particular in old times; he didn't like to +have anybody round when he was busy; but I am glad he is +altered, however; it is better for you, Miss Ellen, dear, +though I didn't know how you was ever going to make out at +first." + +Ellen thought for a minute, when Margery was gone, whether it +could be that John was putting a force upon his liking for her +sake, bearing her presence when he would rather have been +without it. But she thought of it only a minute; she was sure, +when she recollected herself, that however it happened, she +was no hinderance to him in any kind of work; that she went +out and came in, and, as he had said, he saw and heard her +without any disturbance. Besides, he had said so; and that was +enough. + +Saturday evening she generally contrived to busy herself in +her books. But when Sunday morning came, with its calmness and +brightness when the business of the week was put away, and +quietness, abroad and at home, invited to recollection then +Ellen's thoughts went back to old times, and then she missed +the calm, sweet face that had agreed so well with the day. She +missed her in the morning, when the early sun streamed in +through the empty room. She missed her at the breakfast-table, +where John was not to take her place. On the ride to church, +where Mr. Humphreys was now her silent companion, and every +tree in the road, and every opening in the landscape, seemed +to call for Alice to see it with her. Very much she missed her +in church. The empty seat beside her the unused hymn-book on +the shelf the want of her sweet voice in the singing oh! +how it went to Ellen's heart! And Mr. Humphreys' grave, +steadfast look and tone kept it in her mind; she saw it was in +his. Those Sunday mornings tried Ellen. At first they were +bitterly sad her tears used to flow abundantly whenever they +could, unseen. Time softened this feeling. + +While Mr. Humphreys went on to his second service in the +village beyond, Ellen stayed at Carra-carra, and tried to +teach a Sunday-school. She determined, as far as she could, to +supply beyond the home circle the loss that was not felt only +there. She was able, however, to gather together but her own +four children, whom she had constantly taught from the +beginning, and two others. The rest were scattered. After her +lunch, which, having no companion but Margery, was now a short +one, Ellen went next to the two old women that Alice had been +accustomed to attend for the purpose of reading, and what +Ellen called preaching. These poor old people had sadly +lamented the loss of the faithful friend whose place they +never expected to see supplied in this world, and whose +kindness had constantly sweetened their lives with one great +pleasure a week. Ellen felt afraid to take so much upon +herself as to try to do for them what Alice had done; however, +she resolved; and at the very first attempt their gratitude +and joy far overpaid her for the effort she had made. +Practice, and the motive she had, soon enabled Ellen to +remember and repeat faithfully the greater part of Mr. +Humphreys' morning sermon. Reading the Bible to Mrs. Blockson +was easy she had often done that; and to repair the loss of +Alice's pleasant comments and explanations, she bethought her +of her _Pilgrim's Progress_. To her delight the old woman heard +it greedily, and seemed to take great comfort in it; often +referring to what Ellen had read before, and begging to hear +such a piece over again. Ellen generally went home pretty +thoroughly tired, yet feeling happy; the pleasure of doing +good still far overbalanced the pains. + +Sunday evening was another lonely time; Ellen spent it as best +she could. Sometimes with her Bible and prayer, and then she +ceased to be lonely; sometimes with so many pleasant thoughts +that had sprung up out of the employments of the morning, that +she could not be sorrowful; sometimes she could not help being +both. In any case, she was very apt, when the darkness fell, +to take to singing hymns; and it grew to be a habit with Mr. +Humphreys, when he heard her, to come out of his study and lie +down upon the sofa and listen, suffering no light in the room +but that of the fire. Ellen never was better pleased than when +her Sunday evenings were spent so. She sung with wonderful +pleasure when she sang for him; and she made it her business +to fill her memory with all the beautiful hymns she ever knew +or could find, or that he liked particularly. + +With the first opening of her eyes on Monday morning came the +thought, "John will be at home to-day!" That was enough to +carry Ellen pleasantly through whatever the day might bring. +She generally kept her mending of stockings for Monday +morning, because with that thought in her head she did not +mind anything. She had no visits from Margery on Monday; but +Ellen sang over her work, sprang about with happy energy, and +studied her hardest; for John, in what he expected her to do, +made no calculations for work of which he knew nothing. He was +never at home till late in the day; and when Ellen had done +all she had to do, and set the supper-table with punctilious +care, and a face of busy happiness it would have been a +pleasure to see if there had been any one to look at it, she +would take what happened to be the favourite book, and plant +herself near the glass door, like a very epicure, to enjoy +both the present and the future at once. Even then, the +present often made her forget the future; she would be lost in +her book, perhaps hunting the elephant in India, or fighting +Nelson's battles over again; and the first news she would have +of what she had set herself there to watch for, would be the +click of the door-lock or a tap on the glass, for the horse +was almost always left at the further door. Back then she came +from India or the Nile; down went the book; Ellen had no more +thought but for what was before her. + +For the rest of that evening the measure of Ellen's happiness +was full. It did not matter whether John were in a talkative +or a thoughtful mood; whether he spoke to her and looked at +her or not; it was pleasure enough to feel that he was there. +She was perfectly satisfied merely to sit down near him, +though she did not get a word by the hour together. + + +CHAPTER XLV. + +The Guardian Angel. + + +One Monday evening, John being tired, was resting in the +corner of the sofa. The silence had lasted a long time. Ellen +thought so; and standing near, she by-and-by put her hand +gently into one of his, which was thoughtfully passing through +the locks of his hair. Her hand was clasped immediately, and, +quitting his abstracted look, he asked what she had been doing +that day. Ellen's thoughts went back to toes of stockings and +a long rent in her dress; she merely answered, smiling, that +she had been busy. + +"Too busy, I'm afraid. Come round here, and sit down. What +have you been busy about?" + +Ellen never thought of trying to evade a question of his. She +coloured and hesitated. He did not press it any further. + +"Mr. John," said Ellen, when the silence seemed to have set in +again "there is something I have been wanting to ask you +this great while " + +"Why _hasn't_ it been asked this great while?" + +"I didn't quite like to; I didn't know what you would say to +it." + +"I am sorry I am at all terrible to you, Ellie." + +"Why, you are not!" said Ellen, laughing "how you talk! but +I don't much like to ask people things." + +"I don't know about that," said he, smiling; "my memory rather +seems to say that you ask things pretty often." + +"Ah, yes those things; but I mean, I don't; like to ask +things when I am not quite sure how people will like it." + +"You are right, certainly, to hesitate when you are doubtful +in such a matter; but it is best not to be doubtful when I am +concerned." + +"Well," said Ellen, "I wished very much I was going to ask +if you would have any objection to let me read one of your +sermons." + +"None in the world, Ellie," said he, smiling; "but they have +never been written yet." + +"Not written!" + +"No there is all I had to guide me yesterday." + +"A half-sheet of paper! and only written on one side! Oh, I +can make nothing of this. What is _this?_ Hebrew?" + +"Short-hand." + +"And is that all? I cannot understand it," said Ellen, sighing +as she gave back the paper. + +"What if you were to go with me next time? They want to see +you very much at Ventnor." + +"So do I want to see them," said Ellen, "very much indeed." + +"Mrs. Marshman sent a most earnest request by me that you +would come to her the next time I go to Randolph." + +Ellen gave the matter a very serious consideration if one +might judge by her face. + +"What do you say to it?" + +"I should like to go, very much," said Ellen, slowly "but " + +"But you do not think it would be pleasant?" + +"No, no," said Ellen, laughing, "I don't mean that; but I +think I would rather not." + +"Why?" + +"Oh I have some reasons." + +"You must give me _very_ good ones, or I think I shall overrule +your decision, Ellie." + +"I have very good ones; plenty of them; only " + +A glance, somewhat comical in its keenness, overturned Ellen's +hesitation. + +"I have, indeed," said she, laughing; "only I did not want to +tell you. The reason why I didn't wish to go was because I +thought I should be missed. You don't know how much I miss +you," said she, with tears in her eyes. + +"That is what I was afraid of! Your reasons make against you, +Ellie." + +"I hope not; I don't think they ought." + +"But, Ellie, I am very sure my father would rather miss you +once or twice than have you want what would be good for you." + +"I know that! I am sure of that; but that don't alter my +feeling, you know. And besides, that isn't all." + +"Who else will miss you?" + +Ellen's quick look seemed to say that he knew too much +already, and that she did not wish him to know more. He did +not repeat the question, but Ellen felt that her secret was no +longer entirely her own. + +"And what do you do, Ellie, when you feel lonely?" he went on +presently. + +Ellen's eyes watered at the tone in which these words were +spoken; she answered "Different things." + +"The best remedy for it is prayer. In seeking the face of our +best Friend we forget the loss of others. That is what I try, +Ellie, when I feel alone; do you try it?" said he, softly. + +Ellen looked up; she could not well speak at that moment. + +"There is an antidote in that for every trouble. You know who +said, 'He that cometh to me shall never hunger, and he that +believeth on me shall never thirst.' " + +"It troubles me," said he, after a pause, "to leave you so +much alone. I don't know that it were not best to take you +with me every week." + +"Oh, no!" said Ellen, "don't think of me. I don't mind it, +indeed. I do not always feel so sometimes but I get along +very well; and I would rather stay here, indeed I would. I am +always happy as soon as Monday morning comes." + +He rose up suddenly, and began to walk up and down the room. + +"Mr. John " + +"What Ellie?" + +"I do sometimes seek His face very much when I cannot find +it." + +She hid her face in the sofa cushion. He was silent a few +minutes, and then stopped his walk. + +"There is something wrong, then, with you, Ellie," he said, +gently. "How has it been through the week? If you can let day +after day pass without remembering your best Friend, it may be +that when you feel the want you will not readily find Him. How +is it daily, Ellie? is seeking his face your first concern? do +you give sufficient time faithfully to your Bible and prayer?" + +Ellen shook her head; no words were possible. He took up his +walk again. The silence lasted a length of time, and he was +still walking, when Ellen came to his side and laid her hand +on his arm. + +"Have you settled that question with your conscience, Ellie?" + +She weepingly answered, "Yes.". They walked a few turns up and +down. + +"Will you promise me, Ellie, that every day when it shall be +possible, you will give an hour _at least_ to this business, +whatever else may be done or undone?" + +Ellen promised; and then with her hand in his they continued +their walk through the room till Mr. Humphreys and the +servants came in. Her brother's prayer that night Ellen never +forgot. + +No more was said at that time about her going to Ventnor. But +a week or two after, John smilingly told her to get all her +private affairs arranged, and to let her friends know they +need not expect to see her the next Sunday, for that he was +going to take her with him. As she saw he had made up his +mind, Ellen said nothing in the way of objecting, and, now +that the decision was taken from her, was really very glad to +go. She arranged everything, as he had said; and was ready +Saturday morning to set off with a very light heart. + +They went in the sleigh. In a happy, quiet mood of mind, Ellen +enjoyed everything exceedingly. She had not been to Ventnor in +several months; the change of scene was very grateful. She +could not help thinking, as they slid along smoothly and +swiftly over the hard-frozen snow, that it was a good deal +pleasanter, for once, than sitting alone in the parlour at +home with her work-basket. Those days of solitary duty, +however, had prepared her for the pleasure of this one; Ellen +knew that, and was ready to be thankful for everything. +Throughout the whole way, whether the eye and mind silently +indulged in roving, or still better-loved talk interrupted +that, as it often did, Ellen was in a state of most unmixed +and unruffled satisfaction. John had not the slightest reason +to doubt the correctness of his judgment in bringing her. He +went in but a moment at Ventnor, and leaving her there, +proceeded himself to Randolph. + +Ellen was received as a precious lending that must be taken +the greatest care of and enjoyed as much as possible while one +has it. Mrs. Marshman and Mrs. Chauncey treated her as if she +had been their own child. Ellen Chauncey overwhelmed her with +joyful caresses, and could scarcely let her out of her arms by +night or by day. She was more than ever Mr. Marshman's pet; +but, indeed, she was well petted by the family. It was a very +happy visit. + +Even Sunday left nothing to wish for. To her great joy, not +only Mrs. Chauncey went with her in the morning to hear her +brother (for his church was not the one the family attended), +but the carriage was ordered in the afternoon also; and Mrs. +Chauncey and her daughter and Miss Sophia went with her again. +When they returned, Miss Sophia, who had taken a very great +fancy to her, brought her into her own room and made her lie +down with her upon the bed, though Ellen insisted she was not +tired. + +"Well, you ought to be, if you are not," said the lady. "_I_ am. +Keep away, Ellen Chauncey you can't be anywhere without +talking. You can live without Ellen for half an hour, can't +ye? Leave us a little while in quiet." + +Ellen for her part was quite willing to be quiet. But Miss +Sophia was not sleepy, and it soon appeared had no intention +of being silent herself. + +"Well, how do you like your brother in the pulpit?" she began. + +"I like him anywhere, Ma'am," said Ellen, smiling a very +unequivocal smile. + +"I thought he would have come here with you last night; it is +very mean of him! He never comes near us; he always goes to +some wretched little lodging or place in the town there +always; never so much as looks at Ventnor, unless sometimes he +may stop for a minute at the door." + +"He said he would come here to-night," said Ellen. + +"Amazing condescending of him! However, he isn't like anybody +else; I suppose we must not judge him by common rules. How is +Mr. Humphreys, Ellen?" + +"I don't know Ma'am," said Ellen; "it is hard to tell; he +doesn't say much. I think he is rather more cheerful, if +anything, than I expected he would be." + +"And how do you get along there, poor child! with only two +such grave people about you?" + +"I get along very well, Ma'am," said Ellen, with what Miss +Sophia thought a somewhat curious smile. + +"I believe you will grow to be as sober as the rest of them," +said she. "How does Mr. John behave?" + +Ellen turned so indubitably curious a look upon her at this, +that Miss Sophia half-laughed and went on + +"Mr. Humphreys was not always as silent and reserved as he is +now; I remember him when he was different, though I don't +think he was ever much like his son. Do you ever hear about +it?" + +"About what, Ma'am?" + +"Oh, all about his coming to this country, and what brought +him to Carra-carra?" + +"No, Ma'am." + +"My father, you see, had come out long before, but the two +families had always been very intimate in England, and it was +kept up after he came away. He was a particular friend of an +elder brother of Mr. Humphreys; his estate and my +grandfather's lay very near each other; and besides, there +were other things that drew them to each other he married my +aunt, for one. My father made several journeys back and forth +in the course of years, and so kept up his attachment to the +whole family, you know; and he became very desirous to get Mr. +Humphreys over here this Mr. Humphreys, you know. He was the +younger brother younger brothers in England have generally +little or nothing; but you don't know anything about that, +Ellen. _He_ hadn't anything then but his living, and that was a +small one; he had some property left him, though, just before +he came to America." + +"But, Miss Sophia," Ellen hesitated, "are you sure they +would like I should hear all this?" + +"Why, yes, child! of course they would; everybody knows it. +Some things made Mr. Humphreys as willing to leave England +about that time as my father was to have him. An excellent +situation was offered him in one of the best institutions +here, and he came out. That's about let me see I was just +twelve years old, and Alice was one year younger. She and I +were just like sisters always from that time. We lived near +together, and saw each other every day, and our two families +were just like one. But they were liked by everybody. Mrs. +Humphreys was a very fine person very; oh, very! I never saw +any woman I admired more. Her death almost killed her husband: +and I think Alice I don't know; there isn't the least sign +of delicate health about Mr. Humphreys nor Mr. John not the +slightest nor about Mrs. Humphreys either. She was a very +fine woman!" + +"How long ago did she die?" said Ellen. + +"Five six, seven seven years ago. Mr. John had been left +in England till a little before. Mr. Humphreys was never the +same after that. He wouldn't hold his professorship any +longer; he couldn't bear society; he just went and buried +himself at Carra-carra. That was a little after we came here." + +How much all this interested Ellen! She was glad, however, +when Miss Sophia seemed to have talked herself out, for she +wanted very much to think over John's sermon. And as Miss +Sophia happily fell into a doze soon after, she had a long +quiet time for it, till it grew dark, and Ellen Chauncey, +whose impatience could hold no longer, came to seek her. + +John came in the evening. Ellen's patience and politeness were +severely tried in the course of it; for while she longed +exceedingly to hear what her brother and the older members of +the family were talking about animated, delightful +conversation she was sure Ellen Chauncey detained her in +another part of the room; and for a good part of the evening +she had to bridle her impatience, and attend to what she did +not care about. She did it, and Ellen Chauncey did not suspect +it; and at last she found means to draw both her and herself +near the larger group. But they seemed to have got through +what they were talking about; there was a lull. Ellen waited +and hoped they would begin again. + +"You had a full church this afternoon, Mr. John," said Miss +Sophia. + +He bowed gravely. + +"Did you know whom you had among your auditors? the and +were there;" naming some distinguished strangers in the +neighbourhood. + +"I think I saw them." + +"You 'think' you did! Is that an excess of pride or an excess +of modesty? Now, do be a reasonable creature, and confess that +you are not insensible to the pleasure and honour of +addressing such an audience!" + +Ellen saw something like a flash of contempt for an instant in +his face, instantly succeeded by a smile. + +"Honestly, Miss Sophia, I was much more interested in an old +woman that sat at the foot of the pulpit-stairs." + +"That old thing!" said Miss Sophia. + +"I saw her," said Mrs. Chauncey; "poor old creature! she +seemed most deeply attentive when I looked at her." + +"_I_ saw her!" cried Ellen Chauncey "and the tears were +running down her cheeks several times." + +"I didn't see her," said Ellen Montgomery, as John's eye met +hers. He smiled. + +"But do you mean to say," continued Miss Sophia, "that you are +absolutely careless as to who hears you?" + +"I have always one hearer, Miss Sophia, of so much dignity, +that it sinks the rest into great insignificance." + +"That is a rebuke," said Miss Sophia; "but nevertheless, I +shall tell you that I liked you very much this afternoon." + +He was silent. + +"I suppose you will tell me next," said the young lady, +laughing, "that you are sorry to hear me say so." + +"I am," said he, gravely. + +"Why? may I ask?" + +"You show me that I have quite failed in my aim, so far at +least as one of my hearers was concerned." + +"How do you know that?" + +"Do you remember what Louis the Fourteenth said to Massillon? + 'Mon pθre, j'ai entendu plusieurs grands orateurs dans ma +chapelle; j'en ai ιtι fort content: pour vous, toutes les fois +que je vous ai entendu, j'ai ιtι trθs mιcontent de moi-mκme!' +" + +Ellen smiled. Miss Sophia was silent for a moment. + +"Then you really mean to be understood, that provided you fail +of your aim, as you say, you do not care a straw what people +think of you?" + +"As I would take a bankrupt's promissory note in lieu of told +gold. It gives me small gratification, Miss Sophia very +small indeed to see the bowing heads of the grain that yet +my sickle cannot reach." + +"I agree with you most heartily," said Mr. George Marshman. +The conversation dropped; and the two gentlemen began another +in an undertone, pacing up and down the floor together. + +The next morning, not sorrowfully, Ellen entered the sleigh +again, and they set off homewards. + +"What a sober little piece that is!" said Mr. Howard. + +"Oh! sober!" cried Ellen Chauncey; "that is because you +don't know her, Uncle Howard. She is the cheerfullest, +happiest girl that I ever saw always." + +"Except Ellen Chauncey always," said her uncle. + +"She is a singular child," said Mrs. Gillespie. "She is grave, +certainly, but she don't look moped at all, and I should think +she would be, to death." + +"There's not a bit of moping about her," said Miss Sophia. +"She can laugh and smile as well as anybody; though she has +sometimes that peculiar grave look of the eyes that would make +a stranger doubt it. I think John Humphreys has infected; he +has something of the same look himself." + +"I am not sure whether it is the eyes or the mouth, Sophia," +said Mr. Howard. + +"It is both," said Miss Sophia. "Did you ever see the eyes +look one way and the mouth another?" + +"And besides," said Ellen Chauncey, "she has reason to look +sober, I am sure." + +"She is a fascinating child," said Mrs. Gillespie. "I cannot +comprehend where she gets the manner she has. I never saw a +more perfectly polite child, and there she has been for +months, with nobody to speak to her but two gentlemen and the +servants. It is natural to her, I suppose; she can have nobody +to teach her." + +"I am not so sure as to that," said Miss Sophia; "but I have +noticed the same thing often. Did you observe her last night, +Matilda, when John Humphreys came in? you were talking to her +at the moment; I saw her before the door was opened; I saw the +colour come, and her eyes sparkle, but she did not look +towards him for an instant, till you had finished what you +were saying to her, and she had given, as she always does, her +modest, quiet answer; and then her eye went straight as an +arrow to where he was standing." + +"And yet," said Mrs. Chauncey, "she never moved towards him +when you did, but stayed quietly on that side of the room with +the young ones, till he came round to them; and it was some +time too." + +"She is an odd child," said Miss Sophia, laughing. "What do +you think she said to me yesterday? I was talking to her, and +getting rather communicative on the subject of my neighbours' +affairs; and she asked me gravely the little monkey! if I +was sure they would like her to hear it? I felt quite rebuked, +though I didn't choose to let her know as much." + +"I wish Mr. John would bring her every week," said Ellen +Chauncey, sighing; "it would be so pleasant to have her." + +Towards the end of the winter, Mr. Humphreys began to propose +that his son should visit England and Scotland during the +following summer. He wished him to see his family and to know +his native country, as well as some of the most distinguished +men and institutions in both kingdoms. Mr. George Marshman +also urged upon him some business in which he thought he could +be eminently useful. But Mr. John declined both propositions, +still thinking he had more important duties at home. This only +cloud that rose above Ellen's horizon scattered away. + +One evening it was a Monday in the twilight, John was as +usual pacing up and down the floor. Ellen was reading in the +window. + +"Too late for you, Ellie." + +"Yes," said Ellen; "I know; I will stop in two minutes." + +But in a quarter of that time she had lost every thought of +stopping, and knew no longer that it was growing dusk. +Somebody else, however, had not forgotten it. The two minutes +were not ended, when a hand came between her and the page, and +quietly drew the book away. + +"Oh, I beg your pardon!" cried Ellen, starting up. "I entirely +forgot about it!" + +He did not look displeased; he was smiling. He drew her arm +within his. + +"Come and walk with me. Have you had any exercise to-day?" + +"No." + +"Why not?" + +"I had a good deal to do, and I had fixed myself so nicely on +the sofa with my books; and it looked cold and disagreeable +out of doors." + +"Since when have you ceased to be a fixture?" + +"What! oh," said Ellen, laughing, "how shall I ever get rid +of that troublesome word? What shall I say? I had _arranged_ +myself, _established_ myself, so nicely on the sofa." + +"And did you think that a sufficient reason for not going +out?" + +"No," said Ellen, "I did not; and I did not decide that I +would not go; and yet I let it keep me at home after all; +just as I did about reading a few minutes ago. I meant to +stop, but I forgot it, and I should have gone on I don't know +how long if you had not stopped me. I very often do so." + +He paused a minute, and then said + +"You must not do so any more, Ellie." + +The tone, in which there was a great deal of love and +decision, wound round Ellen's heart, and constrained her to +answer immediately + +"I will not I will not." + +"Never parley with conscience; it is a dangerous habit." + +"But then it was only " + +"About trifles; I grant you; but the habit is no trifle. There +will not be a just firmness of mind and steadfastness of +action where tampering with duty is permitted even in little +things." + +"I will try not to do it," Ellen repeated. + +"No," said he, smiling "let it stand as at first. '_I will +not_' means something; '_I will try_' is very apt to come to +nothing, 'I will keep thy precepts with my whole heart! not +'I will _try_. ' Your reliance is precisely the same in either +case." + +"I will not, John," said Ellen, smiling. + +"What were you poring over so intently a while ago?" + +"It was an old magazine _Blackwood's Magazine_, I believe, is +the name of it; I found two great piles of them in a closet +upstairs the other day; and I brought this one down." + +"This is the first that you have read?" + +"Yes; I got very much interested in a curious story there; +why?" + +"What will you say, Ellie, if I ask you to leave the rest of +the two piles unopened?" + +"Why, I will say that I will do it, of course," said Ellen +with a little smothered sigh of regret, however "if you wish +it." + +"I do wish it, Ellie." + +"Very well I'll let them alone, then. I have enough other +reading; I don't know how I happened to take that one up; +because I saw it there, I suppose." + +"Have you finished Nelson yet?" + +"Oh, yes! I finished it Saturday night. Oh, I like it _very_ +much! I am going all over it again, though. I like Nelson very +much; don't you?" + +"Yes as well as I can like a man of very fine qualities +without principle." + +"Was he that?" said Ellen. + +"Yes; did you not find it out? I am afraid your eyes were +blinded by admiration." + +"Were they?" said Ellen. "I thought he was so very fine in +everything; and I should be sorry to think he was not." + +"Look over the book again by all means, with a more critical +eye; and when you have done so, you shall give me your cool +estimate of his character." + +"O me!" said Ellen. "Well but I don't know whether I can +give you a _cool_ estimate of him however, I'll try. I cannot +think coolly of him now, just after Trafalgar. I think it was +a shame that Collingwood did not anchor as Nelson told him to; +don't you? I think he might have been obeyed while he was +living at least." + +"It is difficult," said John, smiling, "to judge correctly of +many actions without having been on the spot, and in the +circumstances of the actors. I believe you and I must leave +the question of Trafalgar to more nautical heads." + +"How pleasant this moonlight is!" said Ellen. + +"What makes it pleasant?" + +"What _makes_ it pleasant! I don't know; I never thought of +such a thing. It is _made_ to be pleasant I can't tell _why;_ +can anybody?" + +"The eye loves light for many reasons; but all kinds of light +are not equally agreeable. What makes the peculiar charm of +these long streams of pale light across the floor? and the +shadowy brightness without?" + +"You must tell," said Ellen; "I cannot." + +"You know we enjoy anything much more by contrast; I think +that is one reason. Night is the reign of darkness, which we +do not love; and here is light struggling with the darkness, +not enough to overcome it entirely, but yet banishing it to +nooks and corners, and distant parts, by the side of which it +shows itself in contrasted beauty. Our eyes bless the unwonted +victory." + +"Yes," said Ellen; "we only have moonlight nights once in a +while." + +"But that is only one reason out of many, and not the +greatest. It is a very refined pleasure, and to resolve it +into its elements, is something like trying to divide one of +these same white rays of light into the many various-coloured +ones that go to form it; and not by any means so easy a +task." + +"Then it was no wonder I couldn't answer," said Ellen. + +"No; you are hardly a full-grown philosopher yet, Ellie." + +"The moonlight is so calm and quiet," Ellen observed, +admiringly. + +"And why is it calm and quiet? I must have an answer to +that." + +"Because _we_ are generally calm and quiet at such times?" Ellen +ventured, after a little thought. + +"Precisely! we and the world. And association has given the +moon herself the same character. Besides that, her mild, sober +light is not fitted for the purposes of active employment, and +therefore the more graciously invites us to the pleasures of +thought and fancy." + +"I am loving it more and more, the more you talk about it," +said Ellen, laughing. + +"And there you have touched another reason, Ellie, for the +pleasure we have, not only in moonlight, but in most other +things. When two things have been in the mind together, and +made any impression, the mind associates them; and you cannot +see or think of the one, without bringing back the remembrance +of the feeling of the other. If we have enjoyed the moonlight +in pleasant scenes, in happy hours, with friends that we loved + though the sight of it may not always make us directly +remember them, yet it brings with it a waft from the feeling +of the old times sweet as long as life lasts!" + +"And sorrowful things may be associated too?" said Ellen. + +"Yes, and sorrowful things. But this power of association is +the cause of half the pleasure we enjoy. There is a tune my +mother used to sing I cannot hear it now without being +carried swiftly back to my boyish days to the very spirit of +the time; I _feel_ myself spring over the green sward as I did +then." + +"Oh, I know that is true," said Ellen. "The camellia the +white camellia, you know I like it so much ever since what +you said about it one day. I never see it without thinking of +it; and it would not seem half so beautiful but for that." + +"What did I say about it?" + +"Don't you remember? you said it was like what you ought to +be, and what you should be, if you ever reached heaven; and +you repeated that verse in the Revelation about 'those that +have not defiled their garments.' I always think of it. It +seems to give me a lesson." + +"How eloquent of beautiful lessons all nature would be to us," +said John, musingly, "if we had but the eye and the ear to +take them in!" + +"And in that way you would heap associations upon +associations?" + +"Yes; till our storehouse of pleasure was very full." + +"You do that now," said Ellen. "I wish you would teach me." + +"I have read precious things sometimes in the bunches of +flowers you are so fond of, Ellie. Cannot you?" + +"I don't know; I only think of themselves; except sometimes +they make me think of Alice." + +"You know, from any works we may form some judgment of the +mind and character of their author?" + +"From their writings, I know you can," said Ellen; "from what +other works?" + +"From any which are not mechanical; from any in which the +mind, not the hand, has been the creating power. I saw you +very much interested the other day in the Eddystone +lighthouse; did it help you to form no opinion of Mr. +Smeaton?" + +"Why, yes, certainly," said Ellen; "I admired him exceedingly +for his cleverness and perseverance; but what other works? I +can't think of any." + +"There is the lighthouse, that is one thing. What do you +think of the ocean waves that now and then overwhelm it?" + +Ellen half-shuddered. "I shouldn't like to go to sea, John! +But you were speaking of men's works and women's works?" + +"Well, women's works; I cannot help forming some notion of a +lady's mind and character from the way she dresses herself." + +"Can you? do you?" + +"I cannot help doing it. Many things appear in the style of a +lady's dress that she never dreams of; the style of her +thoughts, among others." + +"It is a pity ladies didn't know that," said Ellen, laughing; +"they would be very careful." + +"It wouldn't mend the matter, Ellie. That is one of the things +in which people are obliged to speak truth. As the mind is, so +it will show itself." + +"But we have got a great way from the flowers," said Ellen. + +"You shall bring me some to-morrow, Ellie, and we will read +them together." + +"There are plenty over there now," said Ellen, looking towards +the little flower-stand, which was as full and flourishing as +ever; "but we can't see them well by this light." + +"A bunch of flowers seems to bring me very near the hand that +made them. They are the work of His fingers; and I cannot +consider them without being joyfully assured of the glory and +loveliness of their Creator. It is written as plainly to me in +their delicate painting, and sweet breath, and curious +structure, as in the very pages of the Bible; though, no +doubt, without the Bible I could not read the flowers." + +"I never thought much of that," said Ellen. "And then, you +find particular lessons in particular flowers?" + +"Sometimes." + +"Oh, come here!" said Ellen, pulling him towards the flower- +stand, "and tell me what this daphne is like, you need not +see that, only smell it, that's enough; do, John, and tell +me what it is like!" + +He smiled as he complied with her request, and walked away +again. + +"Well, what is it?" said Ellen; "I know you have thought of +something." + +"It is like the fragrance that Christian society sometimes +leaves upon the spirit; when it is just what it ought to be." + +"My Mr. Marshman!" exclaimed Ellen. + +John smiled again. "I thought of him, Ellie. And I thought, +also, of Cowper's lines: + + +'When one who holds communion with the skies +Has filled his urn where those pure waters rise, +Descends and dwells among us meaner things, +It is as if an angel shook his wings!' " + + +Ellen was silent a moment from pleasure. + +"Well, I have got an association now with the daphne!" she +said, joyously; and presently added, sighing, "How much you +see in everything, that I do not see at all." + +"Time, Ellie, said John; "there must be time for that. It will +come. Time is cried out upon as a great thief; it is people's +own fault. Use him but well, and you will get from his hand +more than he will ever take from you." + +Ellen's thoughts travelled on a little way from this speech, +and then came a sigh, of some burden, as it seemed; and her +face was softly laid against the arm she held. + +"Let us leave all that to God," said John, gently. + +Ellen started. "How did you know, how _could_ you know what I +was thinking of?" + +"Perhaps my thoughts took the same road," said he, smiling. +"But, Ellie, dear, let us look to that one source of happiness +that can never be dried up; it is not safe to count upon +anything else." + +"It is not wonderful," said Ellen, in a tremulous voice, "if I +" + +"It is not wonderful, Ellie, nor wrong. But we, who look up to +God as our Father who rejoice in Christ our Saviour we are +happy, whatever beside we may gain or lose. Let us trust Him, +and never doubt that, Ellie." + +"But still " said Ellen. + +"But, still, we will hope and pray alike in that matter; and +while we do, and may, with our whole hearts, let us leave +ourselves in our Father's hand. The joy of the knowledge of +Christ the joy the world cannot intermeddle with, the peace +it cannot take away! Let us make that our own, Ellie; and, for +the rest, put away all anxious care about what we cannot +control." + +Ellen's hand, however, did not just then lie quite so lightly +on his arm as it did a few minutes ago he could feel that +and could see the glitter of one or two tears in the moonlight +as they fell. The hand was fondly taken in his; and, as they +slowly paced up and down, he went on, in low tones of kindness +and cheerfulness, with his pleasant talk, till she was too +happy in the present to be anxious about the future looked +up again and brightly into his face, and questions and answers +came as gaily as ever. + + +CHAPTER XLVI. + +"Something turns up." + + +The rest of the winter, or rather the early part of the +spring, passed happily away. March, at Thirlwall, seemed more +to belong to the former than the latter. Then spring came in +good earnest; April and May brought warm days and wild +flowers. Ellen refreshed herself and adorned the room with +quantities of them; and, as soon as might be, she set about +restoring the winter-ruined garden. Mr. John was not fond of +gardening; he provided her with all manner of tools, ordered +whatever work she wanted to be done for her, supplied her with +new plants and seeds, and roots, and was always ready to give +her his help in any operations or press of business that +called for it. But, for the most part, Ellen hoed and raked +and transplanted, and sowed seeds, while he walked or read; +often giving his counsel, indeed, asked and unasked, and +always coming in between her and any difficult or heavy job. +The hours thus spent were to Ellen hours of unmixed delight. +When he did not choose to go himself, he sent Thomas with her, +as the garden was some little distance down the mountain, away +from the house and from everybody he never allowed her to go +there alone. + +As if to verify Mr. Van Brunt's remark, that "something is +always happening most years," about the middle of May there +came letters that, after all, determined John's going abroad. +The sudden death of two relatives, one after the other, had +left the family estate to Mr. Humphreys; it required the +personal attendance either of himself or his son; he could +not, therefore his son must, go. Once on the other side of the +Atlantic, Mr. John thought it best his going should fulfil all +the ends for which both Mr. Humphreys and Mr. Marshman had +desired it; this would occasion his stay to be prolonged to at +least a year, probably more. And he must set off without +delay. + +In the midst, not of his hurry for Mr. John seldom was or +seemed to be in a hurry about anything but in the midst of +his business, he took special care of everything that +concerned, or could possibly concern, Ellen. He arranged what +books she should read, what studies she should carry on; and +directed that about these matters, as well as about all +others, she should keep up a constant communication with him +by letter. He requested Mrs. Chauncey to see that she wanted +nothing, and to act as her general guardian in all minor +things, respecting which Mr. Humphreys could be expected to +take no thought whatever. And what Ellen thanked him for most +of all, he found time for all his wonted rides, and she +thought more than his wonted talks with her; endeavouring, as +he well knew how, both to strengthen and cheer her mind in +view of his long absence. The memory of those hours never went +from her. + +The family at Ventnor were exceeding desirous that she should +make one of them during all the time John should be gone; they +urged it with every possible argument. Ellen said little, but +he knew she did not wish it; and finally compounded the matter +by arranging that she should stay at the parsonage through the +summer, and spend the winter at Ventnor, sharing all Ellen +Chauncey's advantages of every kind. Ellen was all the more +pleased with this arrangement that Mr. George Marshman would +be at home. The church John had been serving were becoming +exceedingly attached to him, and would by no means hear of +giving him up; and Mr. George engaged, if possible, to supply +his place while he should be away. Ellen Chauncey was in +ecstatics. And it was further promised that the summer should +not pass without as many visits on both sides as could well be +brought about. + +Ellen had the comfort, at the last, of hearing John say that +she had behaved unexceptionably well where he knew it was +difficult for her to behave well at all. That _was_ a comfort, +from him, whose notions of unexceptionable behaviour, she +knew, were remarkably high. But the parting, after all, was a +dreadfully hard matter; though softened as much as it could be +at the time, and rendered very sweet to Ellen's memory by the +tenderness, gentleness, and kindness with which her brother, +without checking, soothed her grief. He was to go early in the +morning; and he made Ellen take leave of him the night before; +but he was in no hurry to send her away; and when at length he +told her it was very late, and she rose up to go, he went with +her to the very door of her room, and there bade her good +night. + +How the next days passed Ellen hardly knew; they were +unspeakably long. + +Not a week after, one morning, Nancy Vawse came into the +kitchen, and asked in her blunt fashion + +"Is Ellen Montgomery at home?" + +"I believe Miss Ellen is in the parlour," said Margery, drily. + +"I want to speak to her." + +Margery silently went across the hall to the sitting-room. + +"Miss Ellen, dear," she said, softly, "here is that Nancy girl +wanting to speak with you will you please to see her?" + +Ellen eagerly desired Margery to let her in; by no means +displeased to have some interruption to the sorrowful thoughts +she could not banish. She received Nancy very kindly. + +"Well, I declare, Ellen!" said that young lady, whose +wandering eye was upon everything but Ellen herself "ain't +you as fine as a fiddle! I guess you never touch your fingers +to a file now-a-days do you?" + +"A file!" said Ellen. + +"You han't forgot what it means, I s'pose," said Nancy, +somewhat scornfully " 'cause if you think I'm a-going to +swallow that, you're mistaken. I've seen you file off tables +down yonder a few times, han't I?" + +"Oh, I remember now," said Ellen, smiling; "it is so long +since I heard the word that I didn't know what you meant. +Margery calls it a dish-cloth, or a floor-cloth, or something +else." + +"Well, you don't touch one now-a-days, do you?" + +"No," said Ellen, "I have other things to do." + +"Well, I guess you have. You've got enough of books now, for +once, han't you? What a lot! I say, Ellen, have you got to +read all these?" + +"I hope so, in time," said Ellen, smiling. "Why haven't you +been to see me before?" + +"Oh I don't know," said Nancy, whose roving eye looked a +little as if she felt herself out of her sphere. "I didn't +know as you would care to see me now." + +"I am very sorry you should think so, Nancy; I would be as +glad to see you as ever. I have not forgotten all your old +kindness to me when Aunt Fortune was sick." + +"You've forgotten all that went before that, I 'spose," said +Nancy, with a half-laugh. "You beat all! Most folks remember +and forget just t'other way exactly. But, besides, I didn't +know but I should catch myself in queer company." + +"Well I am all alone now," said Ellen, with a sigh. + +"Yes, if you warn't I wouldn't be here, I can tell you. What +do you think I have come for to-day, Ellen?" + +"For anything but to see me?" + +Nancy nodded very decisively. + +"What?" + +"Guess." + +"How can I possibly guess? What have you got tucked up in your +apron there?" + +"Ah! that's the very thing," said Nancy. "What _have_ I got, +sure enough?" + +"Well, I can't tell through your apron," said Ellen, smiling. + +"And _I_ can't tell either that's more, ain't it? Now listen, +and I'll tell you where I got it, and then you may find out +what it is, for I don't know. Promise you won't tell anybody." + +"I don't like to promise that, Nancy." + +"Why?" + +"Because it might be something I ought to tell somebody +about." + +"But it ain't." + +"If it isn't I won't tell. Can't you leave it so?" + +"But what a plague! Here I have gone and done all this just +for you, and now you must go and make a fuss. What hurt would +it do you to promise? it's nobody's business but yours and +mine, and somebody else's that won't make any talk about it, I +promise you." + +"I won't speak of it, certainly, Nancy, unless I think I +ought; can't you trust me?" + +"I wouldn't give two straws for anybody else's say so," said +Nancy; "but as you're as stiff as the mischief, I s'pose +I'll have to let it go. I'll trust you! Now listen. It don't +look like anything, does it?" + +"Why, no," said Ellen, laughing; "you hold your apron so +loose, that I cannot see anything." + +"Well, now listen. You know I've been helping down at your +aunt's did you?" + +"No." + +"Well, I have these six weeks. You never see anything go on +quieter than they do, Ellen. I declare it's fun. Miss Fortune +never was so good in her days. I don't mean she ain't as ugly +as ever, you know, but she has to keep it in. All I have to +do, if I think anything is going wrong, I just let her think I +am going to speak to _him_ about it; only I have to do it very +cunning, for fear she would guess what I am up to; and the +next thing I know, it's all straight. He _is_ about the coolest +shaver," said Nancy, "I ever did see. The way he walks through +her notions once in a while not very often, mind you, but +when he takes a fancy it's fun to see! O, I can get along +there first-rate, now. _You'd_ have a royal time, Ellen." + +"Well, Nancy your story?" + +"Don't you be in a hurry. I am going to take my time. Well, +I've been there this six weeks, doing all sorts of things, you +know taking your place, Ellen don't you wish you was back +in it? Well, a couple of weeks since, Mrs. Van took it into +her head she would have up the waggon, and go to Thirlwall, to +get herself some things a queer start for her; but, at any +rate, Van Brunt brought up the waggon, and in she got, and off +they went. Now, _she meant_, you must know, that I should be +fast in the cellar-kitchen all the while she was gone, and she +thought she had given me enough to keep me busy there; but I +was up to her. I was as spry as a cricket, and flew round, and +got things put up; and then I thought I'd have some fun. What +do you think I did? Mrs. Montgomery was quietly sitting in the +chimney-corner, and I had the whole house to myself. How Van +Brunt looks out for her, Ellen! he won't let her be put out +for anything or anybody." + +"I am glad of it," said Ellen, her face flushing, and her eyes +watering "it is just like him. I love him for it." + +"The other night she was mourning and lamenting at a great +rate because she hadn't you to read to her; and what do you +think he does, but goes and takes the book, and sits down and +reads to her himself! You should have seen Mrs. Van's face!" + +"What book?" said Ellen. + +"What book? why your book the Bible there ain't any other +book in the house, as I know. What on earth are you crying +for, Ellen? He's fetched over his mother's old Bible, and +there it lays on a shelf in the cupboard; and he has it out +every once in a while. Maybe he's coming round, Ellen. But do +hold up your head and listen to me! I can't talk to you while +you lie with your head in the cushion like that. I han't more +than begun my story yet." + +"Well, go on," said Ellen. + +"You see, I ain't in any hurry," said Nancy "because as soon +as I've finished I shall have to be off; and it's fun to talk +to you. What do you think I did, when I had done up all my +chores? where do you think I found this, eh? _you'd_ never +guess." + +"What is it?" said Ellen. + +"No matter what it is I don't know; where do you think I +found it?" + +"How can I tell? I don't know." + +"You'll be angry with me when I tell you." + +Ellen was silent. + +"If it was anybody else," said Nancy, "I'd ha' seen 'em shot +afore I'd ha' done it, or told of it either; but you ain't +like anybody else. Look here!" said she, tapping her apron +gently with one finger, and slowly marking off each word +"this come out of your aunt's box in the +closet upstairs in her room." + +"Nancy!" + +"Ay, Nancy! there it is. Now you look! 'Twon't alter it, +Ellen; that's where it was, if you look till tea-time." + +"But how came you there?" + +" 'Cause I wanted to amuse myself, I tell you. Partly to +please myself, and partly because Mrs. Van would be so mad if +she knew it." + +"Oh, Nancy!" + +"Well I don't say it was right but, anyhow, I did it; you +han't heard what I found yet." + +"You had better put it right back again, Nancy, the first time +you have a chance." + +"Put it back again! I'll give it to you, and then you may +put it back again, if you have a mind. I should like to see +you! Why, you don't know what I found." + +"Well, what did you find?" + +"The box was chuck full of all sorts of things, and I had a +mind to see what was in it, so I pulled 'em out one after the +other till I got to the bottom. At the very bottom was some +letters and papers, and there staring right in my face the +first thing I see was 'Miss Ellen Montgomery.' " + +"Oh, Nancy!" screamed Ellen "a letter for me?" + +"Hush! and sit down, will you? yes, a whole package of +letters for you. Well, thought I, Mrs. Van has no right to +that, anyhow, and she ain't agoing to take the care of it any +more; so I just took it up and put it in the bosom of my frock +while I looked to see if there was any more for you, but there +warn't. There it is!" + +And she tossed the package into Ellen's lap. Ellen's head +swam. + +"Well, good-bye!" said Nancy, rising; "I may go now, I +suppose, and no thanks to me." + +"Yes, I do I do thank you very much, Nancy!" cried Ellen, +starting up and taking her by the hand "I do thank you +though it wasn't right; but oh! how could she! how could +she!" + +"Dear me!" said Nancy; "to ask that of Mrs. Van! she could do +anything. _Why_ she did it ain't so easy to tell." + +Ellen, bewildered, scarcely knew, only _felt_, that Nancy had +gone. The outer cover of her package, the seal of which was +broken, contained three letters; two addressed to Ellen, in +her father's hand, the third to another person. The seals of +these had not been broken. The first that Ellen opened she saw +was all in the same hand with the direction; she threw it down +and eagerly tried the other. And yes! there was indeed the +beloved character of which she never thought to have seen +another specimen. Ellen's heart swelled with many feelings; +thankfulness, tenderness, joy, and sorrow, past and present +that letter was not thrown down, but grasped, while tears fell +much too fast for eyes to do their work. It was long before +she could get far in the letter. But when she had fairly begun +it she went on swiftly, and almost breathlessly, to the end. + + +"MY DEAR, DEAR LITTLE ELLEN, + +"I am scarcely able but I must write to you once more. Once +more, daughter, for it is not permitted me to see your face +again in this world. I look to see it, my dear child, where it +will be fairer than ever here it seemed, even to me. I shall +die in this hope and expectation. Ellen, remember it. Your +last letters have greatly encouraged and rejoiced me. I am +comforted, and can leave you quietly in that hand that has led +me, and I believe is leading you. God bless you, my child! + +"Ellen, I have a mother living, and she wishes to receive you +as her own when I am gone. It is best you should know at once +why I never spoke to you of her. After your aunt Bessy married +and went to New York, it displeased and grieved my mother +greatly that I too, who had always been her favourite child, +should leave her for an American home. And when I persisted, +in spite of all that entreaties and authority could urge, she +said she forgave me for destroying all her prospects of +happiness, but that after I should be married and gone, she +should consider me as lost to her entirely, and so I must +consider myself. She never wrote to me, and I never wrote to +her after I reached America. She was dead to me. I do not say +that I did not deserve it. + +"But I have written to her lately, and she has written to me. +She permits me to die in the joy of being entirely forgiven, +and in the further joy of knowing that the only source of care +I had left is done away. She will take you to her heart, to +the place I once filled, and I believe fill yet. She longs to +have you, and to have you as entirely her own, in all +respects; and to this, in consideration of the wandering life +your father leads, and will lead, I am willing and he is +willing to agree. It is arranged so. The old happy home of my +childhood will be yours, my Ellen. It joys me to think of it. +Your father will write to your aunt and to you on the subject, +and furnish you with funds. It is our desire that you should +take advantage of the very first opportunity of proper persons +going to Scotland, who will be willing to take charge of you. +Your dear friends, Mr. and Miss Humphreys, will, I dare say, +help you in this. + +"To them I could say much, if I had strength. But words are +little. If blessings and prayers from a full heart are worth +anything, they are the richer. My love and gratitude to them +cannot " + + +The writer had failed here; and what there was of the letter +had evidently been written at different times. Captain +Montgomery's was to the same purpose. He directed Ellen to +embrace the first opportunity of suitable guardians, to cross +the Atlantic, and repair to No. , Georgestreet, Edinburgh; +said that Miss Fortune would give her the money she would +need, which he had written to her to do, and that the +accompanying letter Ellen was to carry with her, and deliver +to Mrs. Lindsay, her grandmother. + +Ellen felt as if her head would split. She took up that +letter, gazed at the strange name and direction which had +taken such new and startling interest for her, wondered over +the thought of what she was ordered to do with it, marvelled +what sort of fingers they were which would open it, or whether +it would ever be opened; and finally, in a perfect maze, +unable to read, think, or even weep, she carried her package +of letters into her own room, the room that had been Alice's, +laid herself on the bed, and them beside her, and fell into a +deep sleep. + +She woke up towards evening, with the pressure of a mountain +weight upon her mind. Her thoughts and feelings were a maze +still; and not Mr. Humphreys himself could be more grave and +abstracted than poor Ellen was that night. So many points were +to be settled, so many questions answered to herself, it was a +good while before Ellen could disentangle them, and know what +she did think and feel, and what she would do. + +She very soon found out her own mind upon one subject she +would be exceeding sorry to be obliged to obey the directions +in the letters. But must she obey them? + +"I have promised Alice," thought Ellen "I have promised Mr. +Humphreys; I can't be adopted twice. And this Mrs. Lindsay +my grandmother! she cannot be nice, or she wouldn't have +treated my mother so. She cannot be a nice person; hard +she must be hard; I never want to see her. My mother! But +then my mother loved her, and was very glad to have me go to +her. Oh! oh! how could she! how could they do so! when +they didn't know how it might be with me, and what dear +friends they might make me leave! Oh, it was cruel! But then +they did _not_ know, that is the very thing they thought I +would have nobody but Aunt Fortune, and so it's no wonder +oh, what shall I do! What _ought_ I to do? These people in +Scotland must have given me up by this time; it's let me see + it's just about three years now a little less since +these letters were written. I am older now, and circumstances +are changed; I have a home, and a father, and a brother; may I +not judge for myself? But my mother and my father have ordered +me what shall I do! If John were only here but perhaps he +would make me go he might think it right. And to leave him, +and maybe never to see him again! and Mr. Humphreys! and how +lonely he would be without me! I cannot! I will not! Oh, +what _shall_ I do! What shall I do!" + +Ellen's meditations gradually plunged her in despair; for she +could not look at the event of being obliged to go, and she +could not get rid of the feeling, that perhaps it might come +to that. She wept bitterly it didn't mend the matter. She +thought painfully, fearfully, long and was no nearer an end. +She could not endure to submit the matter to Mr. Humphreys; +she feared his decision; and she feared also that he would +give her the money Miss Fortune had failed to supply for the +journey; how much it might be, Ellen had no idea. She could +not dismiss the subject as decided by circumstances, for +conscience pricked her with the fifth commandment. She was +miserable. It happily occurred to her, at last, to take +counsel with Mrs. Vawse; this might be done, she knew, without +betraying Nancy; Mrs. Vawse was much too honourable to press +her as to how she came by the letters, and her word could +easily be obtained not to speak of the affairs to any one. As +for Miss Fortune's conduct, it must be made known; there was +no help for that. So it was settled; and Ellen's breast was a +little lightened of its load of care for that time; she had +leisure to think of some other things. + +Why had Miss Fortune kept back the letters? Ellen guessed +pretty well, but she did not know quite all. The package, with +its accompanying despatch to Miss Fortune, had arrived shortly +after Ellen first heard the news of her mother's death, when +she was refuged with Alice at the parsonage. At the time of +its being sent, Captain Montgomery's movements were extremely +uncertain; and, in obedience to the earnest request of his +wife, he directed that, without waiting for his own return, +Ellen should immediately set out for Scotland. Part of the +money for her expenses he sent; the rest he desired his sister +to furnish, promising to make all straight when he should come +home. But it happened that he was already this lady's debtor +in a small amount, which Miss Fortune had serious doubts of +ever being repaid: she instantly determined that if she had +once been a fool in lending him money, she would not a second +time in adding to the sum; if he wanted to send his daughter +on a wild-goose-chase after great relations, he might come +home himself and see to it; it was none of her business. +Quietly taking the remittance to refund his own owing, she of +course threw the letters into her box, as the delivery of them +would expose the whole transaction. There they lay till Nancy +found them. + +Early next morning, after breakfast, Ellen came into the +kitchen, and begged Margery to ask Thomas to bring the Brownie +to the door. Surprised at the energy in her tone and manner, +Margery gave the message, and added, that Miss Ellen seemed to +have picked up wonderfully; she hadn't heard her speak so +brisk since Mr. John went away. + +The Brownie was soon at the door, but not so soon as Ellen, +who had dressed in feverish haste. The Brownie was not alone; +there was old John saddled and bridled, and Thomas Grimes in +waiting. + +"It's not necessary for you to take that trouble, Thomas," +said Ellen; "I don't mind going alone at all." + +"I beg your pardon, Miss Ellen (Thomas touched his hat) +but Mr. John left particular orders that I was to go with Miss +Ellen whenever it pleased her to ride; never failing." + +"Did he?" said Ellen; "but is it convenient for you now, +Thomas? I want to go as far as Mrs. Vawse's." + +"It's always convenient, Miss Ellen always; Miss Ellen need +not think of that at all, I am always ready." + +Ellen mounted upon the Brownie, sighing for the want of the +hand that used to lift her to the saddle; and spurred by this +recollection, set off at a round pace. + +Soon she was at Mrs. Vawse's; and soon, finding her alone, +Ellen had spread out all her difficulties before her and given +her the letters to read. Mrs. Vawse readily promised to speak +on the subject to no one without Ellen's leave; her suspicions +fell upon Mr. Van Brunt, not her grand-daughter. She heard all +the story and read the letters before making any remark. + +"Now, dear Mrs. Vawse," said Ellen, anxiously, when the last +one was folded up and laid on the table, "what do you think?" + +"I think, my child, you must go," said the old lady, steadily. + +Ellen looked keenly, as if to find some other answer in her +face; her own changing more and more for a minute, till she +sunk it in her hands. + +"Cela vous donne beaucoup de chagrin je le vois bien," said +the old lady, tenderly. (Their conversations were always in +Mrs. Vawse's tongue.) + +"But," said Ellen, presently, lifting her head again (there +were no tears) "I cannot go without money." + +"That can be obtained without any difficulty." + +"From whom? I cannot ask Aunt Fortune for it, Mrs. Vawse; I +could not do it." + +"There is no difficulty about the money. Show your letters to +Mr. Humphreys." + +"Oh, I cannot!" said Ellen, covering her face again. + +"Will you let me do it? I will speak to him if you permit me." + +"But what use? _He_ ought not to give me the money, Mrs. Vawse. +It would not be right; and to show him the letters would be +like asking him for it. Oh, I can't bear to do that!" + +"He would give it you, Ellen, with the greatest pleasure." + +"Oh, no, Mrs. Vawse!" said Ellen, bursting into tears; "he +would never be pleased to send me away from him! I know I +know he would miss me. Oh, what shall I do?" + +"Not _that_, my dear Ellen," said the old lady, coming to her, +and gently stroking her head with both hands. "You must do +what is _right;_ and you know it cannot be but that will be the +best and happiest for you in the end." + +"Oh! I wish I wish," exclaimed Ellen from the bottom of her +heart, "those letters had never been found!" + +"Nay, Ellen, _that_ is not right." + +"But I promised Alice, Mrs. Vawse; ought I go away and leave +him? Oh, Mrs. Vawse, it is very hard! _Ought_ I?" + +"Your father and your mother have said it, my child." + +"But they never would have said it if they had known!" + +"But they did not know, Ellen; and here it is." + +Ellen wept violently, regardless of the caresses and soothing +words which her old friend lavished upon her. + +"There is one thing," said she at last, raising her head; "I +don't know of anybody going to Scotland, and I am not likely +to; and if I only do not before autumn that is not a good +time to go, and then comes winter." + +"My dear Ellen!" said Mrs. Vawse, sorrowfully, "I must drive +you from your last hope. Don't you know that Mrs. Gillespie is +going abroad with all her family? next month, I think." + +Ellen grew pale for a minute, and sat holding bitter counsel +with her own heart. Mrs. Vawse hardly knew what to say next. + +"You need not feel uneasy about your journeying expenses," she +remarked, after a pause; "you can easily repay them if you +wish, when you reach your friends in Scotland." + +Ellen did not hear her. She looked up with an odd expression +of determination in her face, determination taking its stand +upon difficulties. + +"I shan't stay there, Mrs. Vawse, if I go! I shall go, I +suppose, if I must; but do you think anything will keep me +there? Never!" + +"You will stay for the same reason that you go for, Ellen, +to do your duty." + +"Yes, till I am old enough to choose for myself, Mrs. Vawse, +and then I shall come back if they will let me." + +"Whom do you mean by 'they?' " + +"Mr. Humphreys and Mr. John." + +"My dear Ellen," said the old lady, kindly, "be satisfied with +doing your duty now; leave the future. While you follow him, +God will be your friend is not that enough? and all things +shall work for your good. You do not know what you will wish +when the time comes you speak of. You do not know what new +friends you may find to love." + +Ellen had in her own heart the warrant for what she had said, +and what she saw by her smile Mrs. Vawse doubted; but she +disdained to assert what she could bring nothing to prove. She +took a sorrowful leave of her old friend, and returned home. + +After dinner, when Mr. Humphreys was about going back to his +study, Ellen timidly stopped him and gave him her letters, and +asked him to look at them some time when he had leisure. She +told him also where they were found and how long they had lain +there, and that Mrs. Vawse had said she ought to show them to +him. + +She guessed he would read them at once and she waited with a +beating heart. In a little while she heard his step coming +back along the hall. He came and sat down by her on the sofa, +and took her hand. + +"What is your wish in this matter, my child?" he said, gravely +and cheerfully. + +Ellen's look answered that. + +"I will do whatever you say I must, Sir," she said, faintly. + +"I dare not ask myself what _I_ would wish, Ellen; the matter is +taken out of our hands. You must do your parents' will, my +child. I will try to hope that you will gain more than I lose. +As the Lord pleases! If I am bereaved of my children, I am +bereaved." + +"Mrs. Gillespie," he said, after a pause, "is about going to +England I know not how soon. It will be best for you to see +her at once, and make all arrangements that may be necessary. +I will go with you tomorrow to Ventnor, if the day be a good +one." + +There was something Ellen longed to say, but it was impossible +to get it out she could not utter a word. She had pressed +her hands upon her face to try to keep herself quiet; but Mr. +Humphreys could see the deep crimson flushing to the very +roots of her hair. He drew her close within his arms for a +moment, kissed her forehead, Ellen _felt_ it was sadly, and went +away. It was well she did not hear him sigh as he went back +along the hall it was well she did not see the face of more +settled gravity with which he sat down to his writing she +had enough of her own. + +They went to Ventnor. Mrs. Gillespie with great pleasure +undertook the charge of her, and promised to deliver her +safely to her friends in Scotland. It was arranged that she +should go back to Thirlwall to make her adieus; and that, in a +week or two, a carriage should be sent to bring her to +Ventnor, where her preparations for the journey should be +made, and whence the whole party would set off. + +"So you are going to be a Scotchwoman, after all, Ellen," said +Miss Sophia. + +"I had a great deal rather be an American, Miss Sophia." + +"Why, Hutchinson will tell you," said the young lady, "that it +is infinitely more desirable to be a Scotchwoman than that." + +Ellen's face, however, looked so little inclined to be merry, +that she took up the subject in another tone. + +"Seriously, do you know," said she, "I have been thinking it +is a very happy thing for you. I don't know what would become +of you alone in that great parsonage-house. You would mope +yourself to death in a little while, especially now that Mr. +John is gone." + +"He will be back," said Ellen. + +"Yes; but what if he is? he can't stay at Thirlwall, child +he can't live thirty miles from his church, you know did you +think he would? They think all the world of him already. I +expect they'll barely put up with Mr. George while he is gone; +they will want Mr. John all to themselves when he comes back, +you may rely on that. What _are_ you thinking of, child?" + +For Ellen's eyes were sparkling with two or three thoughts, +which Miss Sophia could not read. + +"I should like to know what you are smiling at," she said, +with some curiosity; but the smile was almost immediately +quenched in tears. + +Notwithstanding Miss Sophia's discouraging talk, Ellen +privately agreed with Ellen Chauncey that the Brownie should +be sent to her to keep and use as her own, _till his mistress +should come back_ both children being entirely of opinion +that the arrangement was a most unexceptionable one. + +It was not forgotten that the lapse of three years since the +date of the letters, left some uncertainty as to the present +state of affairs among Ellen's friends in Scotland; but this +doubt was not thought sufficient to justify her letting pass +so excellent an opportunity of making the journey; especially +as Captain Montgomery's letter spoke of an _uncle_, to whom, +equally with her grandmother, Ellen was to be consigned. In +case circumstances would permit it, Mrs. Gillespie engaged to +keep Ellen with her, and bring her home to America when she +herself should return. + +And in little more than a month they were gone; adieus and +preparations and all were over. Ellen's parting with Mrs. +Vawse was very tender and very sad; with Mr. Van Brunt, +extremely and gratefully affectionate on both sides; with +her aunt, constrained and brief; with Margery very sorrowful +indeed. But Ellen's longest and most lingering adieu was to +Captain Parry, the old gray cat. For one whole evening she sat +with him in her arms; and over poor pussy were shed the tears +that fell for many better loved and better deserving +personages, as well as those not a few that were wept for him. +Since Alice's death Parry had transferred his entire +confidence and esteem to Ellen; whether from feeling a want, +or because love and tenderness had taught her the touch and +the tone that were fitted to win his regard. Only John shared +it. Ellen was his chief favourite and almost constant +companion. And bitterer tears Ellen shed at no time than that +evening before she went away, over the old cat. She could not +distress kitty with her distress, nor weary him with the calls +upon his sympathy, though, indeed, it is true that he sundry +times poked his nose up wonderingly and caressingly in her +face. She had no remonstrance or interruption to fear: and +taking pussy as the emblem and representative of the whole +household, Ellen wept them all over him; with a tenderness and +a bitterness that were somehow intensified by the sight of the +gray coat and white paws, and kindly face of her unconscious +old brute friend. + +The old people at Carra-carra were taken leave of; the Brownie +too with great difficulty. And Nancy. + +"I am real sorry you are going, Ellen," said she "you're the +only soul in town I care about. I wish I'd thrown them letters +in the fire after all! Who'd ha' thought it?" + +Ellen could not help in her heart echoing the wish. + +"I'm real sorry, Ellen," she repeated. "Ain't there something +I can do for you when you are gone?" + +"Oh, yes, dear Nancy," said Ellen, weeping "if you would +only take care of your dear grandmother. She is left alone +now. If you would only take care of her, and read your Bible, +and be good, Nancy oh, Nancy, Nancy! do, do!" + +They kissed each other, and Nancy went away fairly crying. + +Mrs. Marshman's own woman, a steady, excellent person, had +come in the carriage for Ellen. And the next morning, early +after breakfast, when everything else was ready, she went into +Mr. Humphrey's study to bid the last dreaded good-bye. She +thought her obedience was costing her dear. + +It was nearly a silent parting. He held her a long time in his +arms; and there Ellen bitterly thought her place ought to be. +"What have I to do to seek new relations?" she said to +herself. But she was speechless; till gently relaxing his +hold, he tenderly smoothed back her disordered hair, and +kissing her, said a very few grave words of blessing and +counsel. Ellen gathered all her strength together then, for +she had something that _must_ be spoken. + +"Sir," said she, falling on her knees before him, and looking +up in his face "this don't alter you do not take back what +you said, do you?" + +"What's that I said, my child?" + +"That," said Ellen, hiding her face in her hands on his knee, +and scarce able to speak with great effort "that which you +said when I first came that which you said about " + +"About what, my dear child?" + +"My going away don't change anything, does it, Sir? Mayn't I +come back, if ever I can?" + +He raised her up and drew her close to his bosom again. + +"My dear little daughter," said he, "you cannot be so glad to +come back as my arms and my heart will be to receive you. I +scarce dare hope to see that day, but all in this house is +yours, dear Ellen, as well when in Scotland as here. I take +back nothing, my daughter. Nothing is changed." + +A word or two more of affection and blessing, which Ellen was +utterly unable to answer in any way and she went to the +carriage; with one drop of cordial in her heart, that she fed +upon a long while. "He called me his daughter! he never said +that before, since Alice died! Oh! so I will be as long as I +live, if I find fifty new relations. But what good will a +daughter three thousand miles off do him?" + + +CHAPTER XLVII. + +The wide world grown wider. + + +The voyage was peaceful and prosperous; in due time the whole +party found themselves safe in London. Ever since they set +out, Ellen had been constantly gaining on Mrs. Gillespie's +good-will; the Major hardly saw her but she had something to +say about that "best-bred child in the world." "Best-hearted, +too, I think," said the Major; and even Mrs. Gillespie owned +that there was something more than good-breeding in Ellen's +politeness. She had good trial of it; Mrs. Gillespie was much +longer ailing than any of the party; and when Ellen got well, +it was her great pleasure to devote herself to the service of +the only member of the Marshman family now within her reach. +She could never do too much. She watched by her, read to her, +was quick to see and perform all the little offices of +attention and kindness where a servant's hand is not so +acceptable; and withal never was in the way nor put herself +forward. Mrs. Gillespie's own daughter was much less helpful. +Both she and William, however, had long since forgotten the +old grudge, and treated Ellen as well as they did anybody +rather better. Major Gillespie was attentive and kind as +possible to the gentle, well-behaved little body that was +always at his wife's pillow; and even Lester, the maid, told +one of her friends "she was such a sweet little lady, that it +was a pleasure and gratification to do anything for her." +Lester acted this out; and in her kindly disposition Ellen +found very substantial comfort and benefit throughout the +voyage. + +Mrs. Gillespie told her husband she should be rejoiced if it +turned out that they might keep Ellen with them and carry her +back to America; she only wished it were not for Mr. +Humphreys, but herself. As their destination was not now +Scotland, but Paris, it was proposed to write to Ellen's +friends to ascertain whether any change had occurred, or +whether they still wished to receive her. This, however, was +rendered unnecessary. They were scarcely established in their +hotel, when a gentleman from Edinburgh, an intimate friend of +the Ventnor family, and whom Ellen herself had more than once +met there, came to see them. Mrs. Gillespie bethought herself +to make inquiries of him. + +"Do you happen to know a family of Lindsays, in Georgestreet, +Mr. Dundas?" + +"Lindsays? yes, perfectly well. Do you know them?" + +"No; but I am very much interested in one of the family. Is +the old lady living?" + +"Yes, certainly; not very old, either not above sixty, or +sixty-five; and as hale and alert as at forty. A very fine old +lady." + +"A large family?" + +"Oh, no; Mr. Lindsay is a widower this some years, with no +children; and there is a widowed daughter lately come home +Lady Keith; that's all." + +"Mr. Lindsay that is the son?" + +"Yes. You would like them. They are excellent people +excellent family wealthy beautiful country-seat on the +south bank of the Esk, some miles out of Edinburgh; I was down +there two weeks ago entertain most handsomely and agreeably, +two things that do not always go together. You meet a +pleasanter circle nowhere than at Lindsay's." + +"And that is the whole family?" said Mrs. Gillespie. + +"That is all. There were two daughters married to Americans +some dozen or so years ago. Mrs. Lindsay took it very hard, I +believe, but she bore up, and bears up now, as if misfortune +had never crossed her path, though the death of Mr. Lindsay's +wife and son was another great blow. I don't believe there is +a gray hair on her head at this moment. There is some +peculiarity about them, perhaps some pride, too; but that is +an amiable weakness," he added, laughing, as he rose to go: +"Mrs. Gillespie, I am sure will not find fault with them for +it." + +"That's an insinuation, Mr. Dundas; but look here, what I am +bringing to Mrs. Lindsay in the shape of a grand-daughter." + +"What, my old acquaintance, Miss Ellen! is it possible! My +dear madam, if you had such a treasure for sale, they would +pour half their fortune into your lap to purchase it, and the +other half at her feet." + +"I would not take it, Mr. Dundas." + +"It would be no mean price, I assure you, in itself, however +it might be comparatively. I give Miss Ellen joy." + +Miss Ellen took none of his giving. + +"Ah, Ellen, my dear," said Mrs. Gillespie, when he was gone +"we shall never have you back in America again. I give up all +hopes of it. Why do you look so solemn, my love? You are a +strange child; most girls would be delighted at such a +prospect opening before them." + +"You forget what I leave, Mrs. Gillespie." + +"So will you, my love, in a few days; though I love you for +remembering so well those that have been kind to you. But you +don't realize yet what is before you." + +"Why, you'll have a good time, Ellen," said Marianne; "I +wonder you are not out of your wits with joy. _I_ should be." + +"You may as well make over the Brownie to me, Ellen," said +William; "I expect you'll never want him again." + +"I cannot, you know, William; I lent him to Ellen Chauncey." + +"_Lent_ him! that's a good one. For how long?" + +Ellen smiled, though sighing inwardly to see how very much +narrowed was her prospect of ever mounting him again. She did +not care to explain herself to those around her. Still, at the +very bottom of her heart lay two thoughts, in which her hope +refuged itself. One was a peculiar assurance that whatever her +brother pleased, nothing could hinder him from accomplishing; +the other, a like confidence that it would not please him to +leave his little sister unlooked after. But all began to grow +misty, and it seemed now as if Scotland must henceforth be the +limit of her horizon. + +Leaving their children at a relation's house, Major and Mrs. +Gillespie accompanied her to the north. They travelled post, +and arriving in the evening at Edinburgh, put up at a hotel in +Princes-street. It was agreed that Ellen should not seek her +new home till the morrow; she should eat one more supper and +breakfast with her old friends, and have a night's rest first. +She was very glad of it. The Major and Mrs. Gillespie were +enchanted with the noble view from their parlour windows; +while they were eagerly conversing together, Ellen sat alone +at the other window, looking out upon the curious Old Town. +There was all the fascination of novelty and beauty about that +singular picturesque mass of buildings, in its sober +colouring, growing more sober as the twilight fell; and just +before outlines were lost in the dusk, lights began feebly to +twinkle here and there, and grew brighter and more as the +night came on, till their brilliant multitude were all that +could be seen, where the curious jumble of chimneys and house- +tops and crooked ways had shown a little before. Ellen sat +watching this lighting up of the Old Town, feeling strangely +that she was in the midst of new scenes, indeed, entering upon +a new stage of life; and having some difficulty to persuade +herself that she was really Ellen Montgomery. The scene of +extreme beauty before her seemed rather to increase the +confusion and sadness of her mind. Happily, joyfully, Ellen +remembered, as she sat gazing over the darkening city and its +brightening lights, that there was One near her who could not +change; that Scotland was no remove from him; that His +providence as well as His heaven was over her there; that +there, not less than in America, she was His child. She +rejoiced, as she sat in her dusky window, over his words of +assurance, "I am the good shepherd, and know my sheep, and am +known of mine;" and she looked up into the clear sky (_that_ at +least was home like) in tearful thankfulness, and with earnest +prayer that she might be kept from evil. Ellen guessed she +might have special need to offer that prayer. And as again her +eye wandered over the singular bright spectacle, that kept +reminding her she was a stranger in a strange place, her heart +joyfully leaned upon another loved sentence "This God is our +God for ever and ever, He will be our guide even unto death." + +She was called from her window to supper. + +"Why, how well you look!" said Mrs. Gillespie; "I expected you +would have been half tired to death. Doesn't she look well?" + +"As if she was neither tired, hungry, nor sleepy," said Major +Gillespie kindly; "and yet she must be all three." + +Ellen _was_ all three. But she had the rest of a quiet mind. + +In the same quiet mind, a little fluttered and anxious now, +she set out in the carriage the next morning with her kind +friends to No. , George-street. It was their intention, after +leaving her, to go straight on to England. They were in a +hurry to be there; and Mrs. Gillespie judged that the presence +of a stranger at the meeting between Ellen and her relations +would be desired by none of the parties. But when they reached +the house, they found the family were not at home; they were +in the country, at their place on the Tyne. The direction was +obtained, and the horses' heads turned that way. After a drive +of some length, through what kind of a country Ellen could +hardly have told, they arrived at the place. + +It was beautifully situated; and through well-kept grounds +they drove up to a large, rather old-fashioned, substantial- +looking house. "The ladies were at home;" and that +ascertained, Ellen took a kind leave of Mrs. Gillespie, shook +hands with the Major at the door, and was left alone, for the +second time in her life, to make her acquaintance with new and +untried friends. She stood for one second looking after the +retreating carriage one swift thought went to her adopted +father and brother far away one to her Friend in heaven and +Ellen quietly turned to the servant and asked for Mrs. +Lindsay. + +She was shown into a large room, where nobody was, and sat +down, with a beating heart, while the servant went upstairs; +looking with a strange feeling upon what was to be her future +home. The house was handsome, comfortably, luxuriously +furnished, but without any attempt at display. Things rather +old-fashioned than otherwise; plain, even homely, in some +instances; yet evidently there was no sparing of money in any +line of use or comfort; nor were reading and writing, painting +and music, strangers there. Unconsciously acting upon her +brother's principle of judging of people from their works, +Ellen, from what she saw gathered around her, formed a +favourable opinion of her relations, without thinking of it, +for indeed she was thinking of something else. + +A lady presently entered, and said that Mrs. Lindsay was not +very well. Seeing Ellen's very hesitating look, she added, +"Shall I carry her any message from you?" + +This lady was well-looking and well-dressed; but somehow there +was something in her face or manner that encouraged Ellen to +an explanation; she could make none. She silently gave her her +father's letter, with which the lady left the room. + +In a minute or two she returned, and said her mother would see +Ellen upstairs, and asked her to come with her. This, then, +must be Lady Keith, but no sign of recognition. Ellen +wondered, as her trembling feet carried her upstairs, and to +the door of a room where the lady motioned her to enter; she +did not follow herself. + +A large pleasant dressing-room but Ellen saw nothing but the +dignified figure and searching glance of a lady in black, +standing in the middle of the floor. At the look which +instantly followed her entering, however, Ellen sprang +forward, and was received in arms that folded her as fondly +and as closely as ever those of her own mother had done. +Without releasing her from their clasp, Mrs. Lindsay presently +sat down, and placing Ellen on her lap, and for a long time +without speaking a word, she overwhelmed her with caresses +caresses often interrupted with passionate bursts of tears. +Ellen herself cried heartily for company, though Mrs. Lindsay +little guessed why. Along with the joy and tenderness arising +from the finding a relation that so much loved and valued her, +and along with the sympathy that entered into Mrs. Lindsay's +thoughts, there mixed other feelings. She began to know, as if +by instinct, what kind of a person her grandmother was. The +clasp of the arms that were about her said as plainly as +possible, "I will never let you go!" Ellen felt it. She did +not know, in her confusion, whether she was most glad or most +sorry; and this uncertainty mightily helped the flow of her +tears. + +When this scene had lasted some time, Mrs. Lindsay began with +the utmost tenderness to take off Ellen's gloves, her cape +(her bonnet had been hastily thrown off long before); and +smoothing back her hair, and taking the fair little face in +both her hands, she looked at it and pressed it to her own, as +indeed something most dearly prized and valued. Then saying, +"I must lie down; come in here, love," she led her into the +next room, locked the door, made Ellen stretch herself on the +bed, and placing herself beside her, drew her close to her +bosom again, murmuring, "My own child my precious child my +Ellen my own darling! why did you stay away so long from +me, tell me?" + +It was necessary to tell; and this could not be done without +revealing Miss Fortune's disgraceful conduct. Ellen was sorry +for that. She knew her mother's American match had been +unpopular with her friends, and now what notions this must +give them of one at least of the near connections to whom it +had introduced her! She winced under what might be her +grandmother's thoughts. Mrs. Lindsay heard her in absolute +silence, and made no comment, and at the end again kissed her +lips and cheeks, embracing her, Ellen felt, as a recovered +treasure that would not be parted with. She was not satisfied +till she had drawn Ellen's head fairly to rest on her breast, +and then her caressing hand often touched her cheek, or +smoothed back her hair, softly now and then asking slight +questions about her voyage and journey, till, exhausted from +excitement more than fatigue, Ellen fell asleep. + +Her grandmother was beside her when she awoke, and busied +herself, with evident delight, in helping her to get off her +travelling clothes, and put on others, and then she took her +down stairs, and presented her to her aunt. + +Lady Keith had not been at home, nor in Scotland, at the time +the letters passed between Mrs. Montgomery and her mother, and +the result of that correspondence respecting Ellen had been +known to no one except Mrs. Lindsay and her son. They had long +given her up, the rather as they had seen in the papers the +name of Captain Montgomery among those lost in the ill-fated +_Duc d'Orleans_. Lady Keith, therefore, had no suspicion who +Ellen might be. She received her affectionately, but Ellen did +not get rid of her first impression. + +Her uncle she did not see until late in the day, when he came +home. The evening was extremely fair, and having obtained +permission, Ellen wandered out into the shrubbery, glad to be +alone, and glad, for a moment, to exchange new faces for old; +the flowers were old friends to her, and never had looked more +friendly than then. New and old, both were there. Ellen went +on softly from flower-bed to flower-bed, soothed and rested, +stopping here to smell one, or there to gaze at some old +favourite or new beauty, thinking curious thoughts of the past +and the future, and through it all taking a quiet lesson from +the flowers, when a servant came after her with a request from +Mrs. Lindsay that she would return to the house. Ellen hurried +in she guessed for what and was sure as soon as she opened +the door, and saw the figure of a gentleman sitting before +Mrs. Lindsay. Ellen remembered well she was sent to her uncle +as well as her grandmother, and she came forward with a +beating heart to Mrs. Lindsay's outstretched hand, which +presented her to this other ruler of her destiny. He was very +different from Lady Keith her anxious glance saw that at +once more like his mother. A man not far from fifty years +old, fine-looking and stately, like her. Ellen was not left +long in suspense his look instantly softened, as his +mother's had done; he drew her to his arms with great +affection, and evidently with very great pleasure; then held +her off for a moment, while he looked at her changing colour +and downcast eye, and folded her close in his arms again, from +which he seemed hardly willing to let her go, whispering, as +he kissed her, "you are my own child now you are my little +daughter: do you know that, Ellen? I am your father henceforth + you belong to me entirely, and I belong to you, my own +little daughter!" + +"I wonder how many times one may be adopted," thought Ellen +that evening; "but, to be sure, my father and my mother have +quite given me up here that makes a difference; they had a +right to give me away if they pleased. I suppose I do belong +to my uncle and grandmother in good earnest, and I cannot help +myself. Well, but Mr. Humphreys seems a great deal more like +my father than my uncle Lindsay. I cannot help that, but how +they would be vexed if they knew it?" + +That was profoundly true. + +Ellen was in a few days the dear pet and darling of the whole +household, without exception, and almost without limit. At +first, for a day or two, there was a little lurking doubt, a +little anxiety, a constant watch, on the part of all her +friends, whether they were not going to find something in +their newly acquired treasure to disappoint them; whether it +could be that there was nothing behind to belie the first +promise. Less keen observers, however, could not have failed +to see very soon that there was no disappointment to be looked +for: Ellen was just what she seemed, without the shadow of a +cloak in anything. Doubts vanished, and Ellen had not been +three days in the house when she was taken home to two hearts, +at least, in unbounded love and tenderness. When Mr. Lindsay +was present, he was not satisfied without having Ellen in his +arms, or close beside him; and if not there, she was at the +side of her grandmother. + +There was nothing, however, in the character of this fondness, +great as it was, that would have inclined any child to presume +upon it. Ellen was least of all likely to try; but if her +will, by any chance, had run counter to theirs, she would have +found it impossible to maintain her ground. She understood +this from the first with her grandmother; and in one or two +trifles since had been more and more confirmed in the feeling +that they would do with her, and make of her precisely what +they pleased, without the smallest regard to her fancy. If it +jumped with theirs, very well; if not, it must yield. In one +matter, Ellen had been roused to plead very hard, and even +with tears, to have her wish, which she verily thought she +ought to have had. Mrs. Lindsay smiled and kissed her, and +went on with the utmost coolness in what she was doing, which +she carried through without in the least regarding Ellen's +distress, or showing the slightest discomposure, and the same +thing was repeated every day till Ellen got used to it. Her +uncle she had never seen tried, but she knew it would be the +same with him. When Mr. Lindsay clasped her to his bosom, +Ellen felt it was as _his own;_ his eye always seemed to repeat, +"_my own_ little daughter;" and in his whole manner, love was +mingled with as much authority. Perhaps Ellen did not like +them much the worse for this, as she had no sort of +disposition to displease them in anything; but it gave rise to +sundry thoughts, however, which she kept to herself thoughts +that went both to the future and the past. + +Lady Keith, it may be, had less _heart_ to give than her mother +and brother, but pride took up the matter instead; and +according to her measure, Ellen held with her the same place +she held with Mr. and Mrs. Lindsay, being the great delight +and darling of all three, and with all three seemingly the +great object in life. + +A few days after her arrival, a week or more, she underwent +one evening a kind of catechizing from her aunt, as to her +former manner of life; where she had been, and with whom, +since her mother left her; what she had been doing; whether +she had been to school, and how her time was spent at home, +&c. &c. No comments whatever were made on her answers, but a +something in her aunt's face and manner induced Ellen to make +her replies as brief, and to give her as little information in +them as she could. She did not feel inclined to enlarge upon +anything, or to go at all further than the questions obliged +her; and Lady Keith ended without having more than a very +general notion of Ellen's way of life for three or four years +past. This conversation was repeated to her grandmother and +uncle. + +"To think," said the latter the next morning at breakfast, +"to think that the backwoods of America should have turned us +out such a little specimen of " + +"Of what, uncle?" said Ellen, laughing. + +"Ah, I shall not tell you that," said he. + +"But it is extraordinary," said Lady Keith, "how after living +among a parcel of thick-headed, and thicker-tongued Yankees, +she could come out and speak pure English in a clear voice; it +is an enigma to me." + +"Take care, Catherine," said Mr. Lindsay, laughing, "you are +touching Ellen's nationality; look here," said he, drawing his +fingers down her cheek. + +"She must learn to have no nationality but yours," said Lady +Keith, somewhat shortly. + +Ellen's lips were open, but she spoke not. + +"It is well you have come out from the Americans, you see, +Ellen," pursued Mr. Lindsay; "your aunt does not like them." + +"But why, Sir?" + +"Why," said he, gravely, "don't you know that they are a +parcel of rebels who have broken loose from all loyalty and +fealty, that no good Briton has any business to like?" + +"You are not in earnest, uncle?" + +"You are, I see," said he, looking amused. "Are you one of +those that make a saint of George Washington?" + +"No," said Ellen, "I think he was a great deal better than +some saints. But I don't think the Americans were rebels." + +"You are a little rebel yourself. Do you mean to say you think +the Americans were right?" + +"Do you mean to say you think they were wrong, uncle?" + +"I assure you," said he, "if I had been in the English army, I +would have fought them with all my heart." + +"And if I had been in the American army, I would have fought +you with all my heart, Uncle Lindsay." + +"Come, come," said he laughing; "you fight! you don't look as +if you would do battle with a good-sized mosquito." + +"Ah, but I mean, if I had been a man," said Ellen. + +"You had better put in that qualification. After all, I am +inclined to think it may be as well for you on the whole that +we did not meet. I don't know but we might have had a pretty +stiff encounter, though." + +"A good cause is stronger than a bad one, uncle." + +"But, Ellen, these Americans forfeited entirely the character +of good friends to England and good subjects to King George." + +"Yes, but it was King George's fault, uncle; he and the +English forfeited their characters first." + +"I declare," said Mr. Lindsay, laughing. "if your sword had +been as stout as your tongue, I don't know how I might have +come off in that same encounter." + +"I hope Ellen will get rid of these strange notions about the +Americans," said Lady Keith, discontentedly. + +"I hope not, Aunt Keith," said Ellen. + +"Where did you get them?" said Mr. Lindsay. + +"What, Sir?" + +"These notions." + +"In reading, Sir; reading different books; and talking." + +"Reading! so you did read in the backwoods?" + +"Sir!" said Ellen, with a look of surprise. + +"What have you read on this subject?" + +"Two lives of Washington, and some in the _Annual Register_, and +part of Graham's _United State;_ and one or two other little +things." + +"But those gave you only one side, Ellen; you should read the +English account of the matter." + +"So I did, Sir; the _Annual Register_ gave me both sides; the +bills and messages were enough." + +"What _Annual Register?_" + +"I don't know, Sir; it is English; written by Burke, I +believe." + +"Upon my word! And what else have you read?" + +"I think that's all, about America," said Ellen. + +"No, but about other things." + +"Oh, I don't know, Sir," said Ellen, smiling; "a great many +books; I can't tell them all." + +"Did you spend all your time over your books?" + +"A good deal, Sir, lately; not so much before." + +"How was that?" + +"I couldn't, Sir. I had a great many other things to do." + +"What else had you to do?" + +"Different things," said Ellen, hesitating, from the +remembrance of her aunt's manner the night before. + +"Come, come! answer me." + +"I had to sweep and dust," said Ellen, colouring, "and set +tables and wash and wipe dishes and churn and spin and +" + +Ellen _heard_ Lady Keith's look in her, "Could you have +conceived it!" + +"What shall we do with her?" said Mrs. Lindsay; "send her to +school, or keep her at home?" + +"Have you never been to school, Ellen?" + +"No, Sir; except for a very little while, more than three +years ago." + +"Would you like it?" + +"I would a _great_ deal rather study at home, Sir, if you will +let me." + +"What do you know now?" + +"Oh, I can't tell, Sir," said Ellen; "I don't know anything +very well, unless " + +"Unless what?" said her uncle, laughing; "come! now for your +accomplishments." + +"I had rather not say what I was going to, uncle; please don't +ask me." + +"Yes, yes," said he; "I shan't let you off. Unless what?" + +"I was going to say, unless riding," said Ellen, colouring. + +"Riding! and pray how did you learn to ride? Catch a horse by +the mane, and mount him by the fence, and canter off bare- +backed? was that it eh?" + +"Not exactly, Sir," said Ellen, laughing. + +"Well, but about your other accomplishments. You do not know +anything of French, I suppose?" + +"Yes, I do, Sir." + +"Where did you get that?" + +"An old Swiss lady in the mountains taught me." + +"Country riding and Swiss French," muttered her uncle. "Did +she teach you to speak it?" + +"Yes, Sir." + +Mr. Lindsay and his mother exchanged glances, which Ellen +interpreted, "Worse and worse." + +"One thing at least can be mended," observed Mr. Lindsay. "She +shall go to De Courcy's riding-school as soon as we get to +Edinburgh." + +"Indeed, uncle, I don't think that will be necessary." + +"Who taught you to ride, Ellen?" asked Lady Keith. + +"My brother." + +"Humph! I fancy a few lessons will do you no harm," she +remarked. + +Ellen coloured and was silent. + +"You know nothing of music, of course?" + +"I cannot play, uncle." + +"Can you sing?" + +"I can sing hymns." + +"Sing hymns! That's the only fault I find with you, Ellen; you +are too sober. I should like to see you a little more gay, +like other children." + +"But, uncle, I am not unhappy because I am sober." + +"But I am," said he. "I do not know precisely what I shall do +with you; I must do something!" + +"Can you sing nothing but hymns?" asked Lady Keith. + +"Yes, Ma'am," said Ellen, with some humour twinkling about her +eyes and mouth, "I can sing 'Hail Columbia!' " + +"Absurd!" said Lady Keith. + +"Why, Ellen," said her uncle, laughing, "I did not know you +could be so stubborn; I thought you were made up of gentleness +and mildness. Let me have a good look at you there's not +much stubbornness in those eyes," he said, fondly. + +"I hope you will never salute my ears with your American +ditty," said Lady Keith. + +"Tut, tut," said Mr. Lindsay, "she shall sing what she +pleases, and the more the better." + +"She has a very sweet voice," said her grandmother. + +"Yes, in speaking, I know; I have not heard it tried +otherwise; and very nice English it turns out. Where did you +get your English, Ellen?" + +"From my brother," said Ellen, with a smile of pleasure. + +Mr. Lindsay's brow rather clouded. + +"Whom do you mean by that?" + +"The brother of the lady that was so kind to me." Ellen +disliked to speak the loved names in the hearing of ears to +which she knew they would be unlovely. + +"How was she so kind to you?" + +"Oh, Sir! in everything I cannot tell you; she was my friend +when I had only one beside; she did everything for me." + +"And who was the other friend? your aunt?" + +"No, Sir." + +"This brother?" + +"No, Sir; that was before I knew him." + +"Who then?" + +"His name was Mr. Van Brunt." + +"Van Brunt! Humph! And what was he?" + +"He was a farmer, Sir." + +"A Dutch farmer, eh? How came you to have anything to do with +him?" + +"He managed my aunt's farm, and was a great deal in the +house." + +"He was? And what makes you call this other your brother?" + +"His sister called me her sister and that makes me his." + +"It is very absurd," said Lady Keith, "when they are nothing +at all to her, and ought not to be." + +"It seems, then, you did not find a friend in your aunt, +Ellen, eh?" + +"I don't think she loved me much," said Ellen, in a low voice. + +"I am very glad we are clear of obligation on her score," said +Mrs. Lindsay. + +"Obligation! And so you had nothing else to depend on, +Ellen, but this man this Van something this Dutchman! What +did he do for you?" + +"A great deal, Sir." Ellen would have said more, but a feeling +in her throat stopped her. + +"Now, just hear that, will you?" said Lady Keith. "Just think +of her in that farmhouse, with that sweeping and dusting woman +and a Dutch farmer, for these three years!" + +"No," said Ellen, "not all the time; this last year I have +been" + +"Where, Ellen?" + +"At the other house, Sir." + +"What house is that?" + +"Where that lady and gentleman lived that were my best +friends." + +"Well, it's all very well," said Lady Keith; "but it is past +now; it is all over, you need not think of them any more. We +will find you better friends than any of these Dutch Brunters +or Grunters." + +"Oh, aunt Keith!" said Ellen, "if you knew" But she burst +into tears. + +"Come, come," said Mr. Lindsay, taking her into his arms, "I +will not have that. Hush, my daughter. What is the matter, +Ellen?" + +But Ellen had with some difficulty contained herself two or +three times before in the course of the conversation, and she +wept now rather violently. + +"What is the matter, Ellen?" + +"Because," sobbed Ellen, thoroughly roused, "I love them +dearly! and I ought to love them with all my heart. I cannot +forget them, and never shall; and I can never have better +friends never! it's impossible Oh, it's impossible." + +Mr. Lindsay said nothing at first, except to soothe her; but +when she had wept herself into quietness upon his breast, he +whispered + +"It is right to love these people if they were kind to you; +but, as your aunt says, that is past. It is not necessary to +go back to it. Forget that you were American, Ellen you +belong to me; your name is not Montgomery any more, it is +Lindsay; and I will not have you call me 'uncle;' I am your +father you are my own little daughter, and must do precisely +what I tell you. Do you understand me?" + +He would have a "yes" from her, and then added "Go and get +yourself ready, and I will take you with me to Edinburgh." + +Ellen's tears had been like to burst forth again at his words; +with great effort she controlled herself, and obeyed him. + +"I shall do precisely what he tells me, of course," she said +to herself, as she went to get ready; "but there are some +things he cannot command; nor I neither I am glad of that! +Forget, indeed!" + +She could not help loving her uncle; for the lips that kissed +her were very kind as well as very peremptory; and if the hand +that pressed her cheek was, as she felt it was, the hand of +power, its touch was also exceeding fond. And as she was no +more inclined to despite his will than he to permit it, the +harmony between them was perfect and unbroken. + + +CHAPTER XLVIII. + +How old friends were invested with the regalia. + + +Mr. Lindsay had some reason that morning to wish that Ellen +would look merrier; it was a very sober little face he saw by +his side as the carriage rolled smoothly on with them towards +Edinburgh; almost pale in its sadness. He lavished the +tenderest kindness upon her, and without going back by so much +as a hint to the subjects of the morning, he exerted himself +to direct her attention to the various objects of note and +interest they were passing. The day was fine, and the country, +also the carriage and the horses; Ellen was dearly fond of +driving; and long before they reached the city, Mr. Lindsay +had the satisfaction of seeing her smile break again, her eye +brighten, and her happy attention fixing on the things he +pointed out to her, and many others that she found for herself +on the way, his horses first of all. Mr. Lindsay might relax +his efforts and look on with secret triumph; Ellen was in the +full train of delighted observation. + +"You are easily pleased, Ellen," he said, in answer to one of +her simple remarks of observation. + +"I have a great deal to please me," said Ellen. + +"What would you like to see in Edinburgh?" + +"I don't know, Sir; anything you please." + +"Then I will show you a little of the city in the first +place." + +They drove through the streets of Edinburgh, both the Old and +the New Town, in various directions. Mr. Lindsay was extremely +pleased to see that Ellen was so, and much amused at the +curiosity shown in her questions, which, however, were by no +means as free and frequent as they might have been had John +Humphreys filled her uncle's place. + +"What large building is that over there?" said Ellen. + +"That? that is Holyrood House." + +"Holyrood! I have heard of that before; isn't that where Queen +Mary's rooms are? where Rizzio was killed?" + +"Yes; would you like to see them?" + +"Oh, _very_ much!" + +"Drive to the Abbey! So you have read Scottish history, as +well as American, Ellen?" + +"Not very much, Sir; only the _Tales of a Grandfather_ yet. But +what made me say that, I have read an account of Holyrood +House somewhere. Uncle " + +"Ellen!" + +"I beg your pardon, Sir; I forgot: it seems strange to me," +said Ellen, looking distressed. + +"It must not seem strange to you, my daughter; what were you +going to say?" + +"I don't know, Sir; Oh, I was going to ask if the silver +cross is here now to be seen?" + +"What silver cross?" + +"That one from which the Abbey was named, Sir; the silver rood +that was given, they pretended, to I forget now what king." + +"David First, the founder of the Abbey? No, it is not here, +Ellen; David the Second lost it to the English. But why do you +say _pretended_, Ellen? It was a very real affair; kept in +England for a long time with great veneration." + +"Oh yes, Sir; I know the _cross_ was real; I mean, it was +pretended that an angel gave it to King David when he was +hunting here." + +"Well, how can you tell but that was so? King David was made a +saint, you know." + +"Oh, Sir," said Ellen, laughing, "I know better than that; I +know it was only a monkish trick." + +"Monkish trick! which do you mean? the giving of the cross, or +the making the king a saint?" + +"Both, Sir," said Ellen, still smiling. + +"At that rate," said Mr. Lindsay, much amused, "if you are +such a sceptic, you will take no comfort in anything at the +Abbey; you will not believe anything is genuine." + +"I will believe what you tell me, Sir." + +"Will you? I must be careful what I say to you then, or I may +run the risk of losing my own credit." + +Mr. Lindsay spoke this half-jestingly, half in earnest. They +went over to the palace. + +"Is this very old, Sir?" asked Ellen. + +"Not very; it has been burnt, and demolished, and rebuilt, +till nothing is left of the old Abbey of King David but the +ruins of the chapel, which you shall see presently. The oldest +part of the House is that we are going to see now, built by +James Fifth, Mary's father, where her rooms are." + +At these rooms Ellen looked with intense interest. She pored +over the old furniture, the needlework of which she was told +was at least in part the work of the beautiful Queen's own +fingers; gazed at the stains in the floor of the bed-chamber, +said to be those of Rizzio's blood; meditated over the trap- +door in the passage, by which the conspirators had come up; +and finally sat down in the room, and tried to realize the +scene which had once been acted there. She tried to imagine +the poor Queen and her attendant and her favourite Rizzio, +sitting there at supper, and how that door, that very door, +had opened, and Ruthven's ghastly figure, pale, and weak from +illness, presented itself, and then others; the alarm of the +moment; how Rizzio knew they were come for him, and fled to +the Queen for protection; how she was withheld from giving it, +and the unhappy man pulled away from her, and stabbed with a +great many wounds, before her face; and there, there! no +doubt, his blood fell! + +"You are tired; this doesn't please you much," said Mr. +Lindsay, noticing her grave look. + +"Oh, it pleases me _very_ much?" said Ellen, starting up; "I do +not wonder she swore vengeance." + +"Who?" said Mr. Lindsay, laughing. + +"Queen Mary, Sir." + +"Were you thinking about her all this while? I am glad of it. +I spoke to you once without getting a word. I was afraid this +was not amusing enough to detain your thoughts." + +"Oh yes, it is," said Ellen; "I have been trying to think +about all that. I like to look at old things very much." + +"Perhaps you would like to see the regalia." + +"The what, Sir?" + +"The royal things, the old diadem and sceptre, &c. of the +Scottish kings. Well, come," said he, as he read the answer in +Ellen's face, "we will go; but first let us see the old +chapel." + +With this Ellen was wonderfully pleased. This was much older +still than Queen Mary's rooms. Ellen admired the wild +melancholy look of the Gothic pillars and arches springing +from the green turf, the large carved window, empty of glass, +the broken walls; and, looking up to the blue sky, she tried +to imagine the time when the Gothic roof closed overhead, and +music sounded through the arches, and trains of stolid monks +paced through them, where now the very pavement was not. +Strange it seemed, and hard, to go back and realize it; but in +the midst of this, the familiar face of the sky set Ellen's +thoughts off upon a new track, and suddenly they were _at home_, +on the lawn before the parsonage. The monks and the abbey were +forgotten; she silently gave her hand to her uncle, and walked +with him to the carriage. + +Arrived at the Crown-room, Ellen fell into another fit of +grave attention; but Mr. Lindsay, taught better, did not this +time mistake rapt interest for absence of mind. He answered +questions, and gave her several pieces of information, and let +her take her own time to gaze and meditate. + +"This beautiful sword," said he, "was a present from Pope +Julius Second to James the Fourth." + +"I don't know anything about the popes," said Ellen. "James +the Fourth! I forget what kind of king he was." + +"He was a very good king; he was the one that died at +Flodden." + +"Oh, and wore an iron girdle, because he had fought against +his father, poor man!" + +"Why 'poor man,' Ellen? he was a very royal prince; why do you +say 'poor man?' " + +"Because he didn't know any better, Sir." + +"Didn't know any better than what?" + +"Than to think an iron girdle would do him any good." + +"But why wouldn't it do him any good?" + +"Because you know, Sir, that is not the way we can have our +sins forgiven." + +"What _is_ the way?" + +Ellen looked at him, to see if he was in jest or earnest. Her +look staggered him a little, but he repeated his question. She +cast her eyes down, and answered + +"Jesus Christ said, 'I am the way, the truth, and the life; no +man cometh unto the Father but by me.' " + +Mr. Lindsay said no more. + +"I wish that was the Bruce's crown," said Ellen, after a +while. "I should like to see anything that belonged to him." + +"I'll take you to the field of Bannockburn some day; that +belonged to him with a vengeance. It lies over yonder." + +"Bannockburn! will you? and Stirling castle! Oh, how I should +like that!" + +"Stirling castle," said Mr. Lindsay, smiling at Ellen's +clasped hands of delight; "what do you know of Stirling +castle?" + +"From the history, you know, Sir, and the _Lord of the Isles;_ + + +" 'Old Stirling's towers arose in light ' " + + +"Go on," said Mr. Lindsay. + + +" 'And twined in links of silver bright, +Her winding river lay.' " + + +"That's this same river Forth, Ellen. Do you know any more?" + +"Oh yes, Sir." + +"Go on, and tell me all you can remember." + +"_All!_ that would be a great deal, Sir." + +"Go on till I tell you to stop." + +Ellen gave him a good part of the battle, with the +introduction to it. + +"You have a good memory, Ellen," he said, looking pleased. + +"Because I like it, Sir; that makes it easy to remember. I +like the Scots people." + +"Do you?" said Mr. Lindsay much gratified. "I did not know you +liked anything on this side of the water. Why do you like +them?" + +"Because they never would be conquered by the English." + +"So," said Mr. Lindsay, half-amused and half-disappointed, +"the long and the short of it is, you like them because they +fought the enemies you were so eager to have a blow at." + +"Oh no, Sir," said Ellen, laughing, "I do not mean that at +all; the French were England's enemies too, and helped us +besides; but I like the Scots a great deal better than the +French. I like them because they would be free." + +"You have an extraordinary taste for freedom! And pray, are +all the American children as strong republicans as yourself?" + +"I don't know, Sir; I hope so." + +"Pretty well, upon my word! Then I suppose even the Bruce +cannot rival your favourite Washington in your esteem?" + +Ellen smiled. + +"Eh?" said Mr. Lindsay. + +"I like Washington better, Sir, of course; but I like Bruce +very much." + +"Why do you prefer Washington?" + +"I should have to think to tell you that, Sir." + +"Very well, think, and answer me." + +"One reason, I suppose, is because he was an American," said +Ellen. + +"That is not reason enough for so reasonable a person as you +are, Ellen; you must try again, or give up your preference." + +"I like Bruce very much indeed," said Ellen musingly; "but he +did what he did for _himself_ Washington didn't." + +"Humph! I am not quite sure as to either of your positions," +said Mr. Lindsay. + +"And besides," said Ellen, "Bruce did one or two wrong things. +Washington always did right." + +"He did? eh? What do you think of the murder of Andrι?" + +"I think it was right," said Ellen, firmly. + +"Your reasons, my little reasoner?" + +"If it had not been right, Washington would not have done it." + +"Ha!, ha! So at that rate you may reconcile yourself to +anything that chances to be done by a favourite." + +"No, Sir," said Ellen, a little confused, but standing her +ground; "but when a person _always_ does right, if he happen to +do something that I don't know enough to understand, I have +good reason to think it is right, even though I cannot +understand it." + +"Very well: but apply the same rule of judgement to the Bruce, +can't you?" + +"Nothing could make me think the murder of the Red Comyn +right, Sir. Bruce didn't think so himself." + +"But remember there is a great difference in the times; those +were rude and uncivilized compared to these; you must make +allowance for that." + +"Yes, Sir, I do; but I like the civilized times best." + +"What do you think of this fellow over here what's his name? +whose monument I was showing you Nelson!" + +"I used to like him very much, Sir." + +"And you do not now?" + +"Yes, Sir, I do; I cannot help liking him." + +"That is to say, you would if you could?" + +"I don't think, Sir, I ought to like a man merely for being +great, unless he was good. Washington was great and good +both." + +"Well, what is the matter with Nelson?" said Mr. Lindsay, with +an expression of intense amusement; "I 'used to think,' as you +would say, that he was a very noble fellow." + +"So he was, Sir; but he wasn't a good man." + +"Why not?" + +"Why, you know, Sir, he left his wife; and Lady Hamilton +persuaded him to do one or two other very dishonourable +things; it was a great pity!" + +"So you will not like any great man that is not good as well. +What is your definition of a good man, Ellen?" + +"One who always does right because it is right, no matter +whether it is convenient or not," said Ellen, after a little +hesitation. + +"Upon my word, you draw the line close. But opinions differ as +to what is right; how shall we know?" + +"From the Bible, Sir," said Ellen, quickly, with a look that +half-amused and half-abashed him. + +"And you, Ellen are you yourself _good_ after this nice +fashion?" + +"No, Sir; but I wish to be." + +"I do believe that. But after all, Ellen, you might like +Nelson; those were only the spots in the sun." + +"Yes, Sir; but can a man be a truly great man who is not +master of himself?" + +"That is an excellent remark." + +"It is not mine, Sir," said Ellen, blushing; "it was told me; +I did not find out all that about Nelson, myself; I did not +see it all the first time I read his life; I thought he was +perfect." + +"I know who _I_ think is," said Mr. Lindsay, kissing her. + +They drove now to his house in George street. Mr. Lindsay had +some business to attend to, and would leave her there for an +hour or two. And that their fast might not be too long +unbroken, Mrs. Allen, the housekeeper, was directed to furnish +them with some biscuits in the library, whither Mr. Lindsay +led Ellen. + +She liked the looks of it very much. Plenty of books; old +looking comfortable furniture; pleasant light; all manner of +etceteras around which rejoiced Ellen's heart. Mr. Lindsay +noticed her pleased glance passing from one thing to another. +He placed her in a deep easy-chair, took off her bonnet and +threw it on the sofa, and kissing her fondly, asked her if she +felt at home. "Not yet," Ellen said; but her look said it +would not take long to make her do so. She sat enjoying her +rest, and munching her biscuit with great appetite and +satisfaction, when Mr. Lindsay poured her out a glass of sweet +wine. + +That glass of wine looked to Ellen like an enemy marching up +to attack her. Because Alice and John did not drink it, she +had always at first, without other reason, done the same; and +she was determined not to forsake their example now. She took +no notice of the glass of wine, though she had ceased to see +anything else in the room, and went on, seemingly as before, +eating her biscuit, though she no longer knew how it tasted. + +"Why don't you drink your wine, Ellen?" + +"I do not wish any, Sir." + +"Don't you like it?" + +"I don't know, Sir; I have never drunk any." + +"No! Taste it and see." + +"I would rather not, Sir, if you please. I don't care for it." + +"Taste it, Ellen!" + +This command was not to be disobeyed. The blood rushed to +Ellen's temples as she just touched the glass to her lips, and +set it down again. + +"Well?" said Mr. Lindsay. + +"What, Sir?" + +"How do you like it?" + +"I like it very well, Sir, but I would rather not drink it." + +"Why?" + +Ellen coloured again at this exceedingly daring question, and +answered as well as she could, that she had never been +accustomed to it, and would rather not. + +"It is of no sort of consequence what you have been accustomed +to," said Mr. Lindsay. "You are to drink it all, Ellen." + +Ellen dared not disobey. When the biscuits and wine were +disposed of, Mr. Lindsay drew her close to his side, and +encircling her fondly with his arms, said + +"I shall leave you now for an hour or two, and you must amuse +yourself as you can. The bookcases are open perhaps you can +find something there; or there are prints in those portfolios; +or you can go over to the house and make yourself acquainted +with your new home. If you want anything, ask Mrs. Allen. Does +it look pleasant to you?" + +"Very," Ellen said. + +"You are at home here, daughter; go where you will, and do +what you will. I shall not leave you long. But before I go, +Ellen, let me hear you call me father." + +Ellen obeyed, trembling, for it seemed to her that it was to +set her hand and seal to the deed of gift her father and +mother had made. But there was no retreat it was spoken +and Mr. Lindsay, folding her close in his arms kissed her +again and again. + +"Never let me hear you call me anything else, Ellen. You are +mine own now my own child my own little daughter. You +shall do just what pleases me in everything, and let by-gones +be by-gones. And now lie down there and rest daughter; you are +trembling from head to foot: rest and amuse yourself in any +way you like till I return." + +He left the room. + +"I have done it now!" thought Ellen, as she sat in the corner +of the sofa, where Mr. Lindsay had tenderly placed her; "I +have called him my father; I am bound to obey him after this. +I wonder what in the world they will make me do next. If he +chooses to make me drink wine every day, I must do it! I +cannot help myself. That is only a little matter. But what if +they were to want me to do something wrong? they might; John +never did I could not have disobeyed _him_, possibly! but I +could them, if it was necessary and if it is necessary, I +will! I should have a dreadful time I wonder if I could go +through with it. Oh yes, I could, if it was right; and +besides, I would rather bear anything in the world from them +than have John displeased with me a great deal rather! But +perhaps after all they will not want anything wrong of me. I +wonder if this is really to be my home always, and if I shall +never get home again! John will not leave me here! But I +don't see how in the world he can help it, for my father and +my mother, and I myself I know what he would tell me if he +was here, and I'll try to do it. God will take care of me if I +follow him: it is none of my business." + +Simply and heartily commending her interests to his keeping, +Ellen tried to lay aside the care of herself. She went on +musing; how very different and how much greater her enjoyment +would have been that day if John had been with her! Mr. +Lindsay, to be sure, had answered her questions with abundant +kindness and sufficient ability; but his answers did not, as +those of her brother often did, skilfully draw her on from one +thing to another, till a train of thought was opened, which at +the setting out she never dreamed of; and along with the joy +of acquiring new knowledge, she had the pleasure of +discovering new fields of it to be explored, and the delight +of the felt exercise and enlargement of her own powers, which +were sure to be actively called into play. Mr. Lindsay told +her what she asked, and there left her. Ellen found herself +growing melancholy over the comparison she was drawing, and +wisely went to the book-cases to divert her thoughts. Finding +presently a history of Scotland, she took it down, resolving +to refresh her memory on a subject which had gained such new +and strange interest for her. Before long, however, fatigue +and the wine she had drunk effectually got the better of +studious thoughts; she stretched herself on the sofa and fell +asleep. + +There Mr. Lindsay found her a couple of hours afterwards, +under the guard of the housekeeper. + +"I cam in, Sir," she said, whispering "it's mair than an +hour back, and she's been sleeping just like a babby ever +syne; she hasna stirred a finger. O, Mr. Lindsay, it's a bonny +bairn, and a gude. What a blessing to the house!" + +"You're about right there, I believe, Maggie; but how have you +learned it so fast?" + +"I canna be mista'en, Mr. George; I ken it as weel as if we +had a year auld acquentance; I ken it by thae sweet mouth and +een, and by the look she gied me when you tauld her, Sir, I +had been in the house near as lang's yoursel. An' look at her +eenow. There's heaven's peace within, I'm a'maist assured." + +The kiss that wakened Ellen found her in the midst of a dream. +She thought that John was a king of Scotland, and standing +before her in regal attire. She offered him, she thought, a +glass of wine; but, raising the sword of state, silver +scabbard and all, he with a tremendous swing of it, dashed the +glass out of her hands; and then, as she stood abashed, he +went forward with one of his old grave kind looks to kiss her. +As the kiss touched her lips, Ellen opened her eyes, to find +her brother transformed into Mr. Lindsay, and the empty glass +standing safe and sound upon the table. + +"You must have had a pleasant nap," said Mr. Lindsay; "you +wake up smiling. Come make haste I have left a friend in +the carriage. Bring your book along if you want it." + +The presence of the stranger, who was going down to spend a +day or two at "the Braes," prevented Ellen from having any +talking to do. Comfortably placed in the corner of the front +seat of the barouche, leaning on the elbow of the carriage, +she was left to her own musings. She could hardly realize the +change in her circumstances. The carriage rolling fast and +smoothly on the two gentlemen opposite to her, one her +father! the strange, varied, beautiful scenes they were +flitting by the long shadows made by the descending sun the +cool evening air Ellen, leaning back in the wide easy seat, +felt as if she were in a dream. It was singularly pleasant; +she could not help but enjoy it all very much; and yet it +seemed to her as if she were caught in a net from which she +had no power to get free; and she longed to clasp that hand +that could, she thought, draw her whence and whither it +pleased. "But Mr. Lindsay, opposite! I have called him my +father I have given myself to him," she thought; "but I gave +myself to somebody else first; I can't undo that and I never +will!" Again she tried to quiet and resign the care of herself +to better wisdom and greater strength than her own. "This may +all be arranged easily in some way I could never dream of," +she said to herself; "I have no business to be uneasy. Two +months ago, and I was quietly at home, and seemed to be fixed +there for ever; and now, and without anything extraordinary +happening, here I am just as fixed. Yes, and before that, at +Aunt Fortune's, it didn't seem possible that I could ever get +away from being her child; and yet how easily all that was +managed. And just so, in some way that I cannot imagine, +things may open so as to let me out smoothly from this." She +resolved to be patient, and take thankfully what she at +present had to enjoy; and in this mood of mind, the drive home +was beautiful; and the evening was happily absorbed in the +history of Scotland. + +It was a grave question in the family that same evening, +whether Ellen should be sent to school. Lady Keith was decided +in favour of it; her mother seemed doubtful; Mr. Lindsay, who +had a vision of the little figure lying asleep on his library +sofa, thought the room had never looked so cheerful before, +and had near made up his mind that she should be its constant +adornment the coming winter. Lady Keith urged the school plan. + +"Not a boarding-school," said Mrs. Lindsay; "I will not hear +of that." + +"No, but a day-school; it would do her a vast deal of good, I +am certain; her notions want shaking up very much. And I never +saw a child of her age so much a child." + +"I assure you I never saw one so much a woman. She has asked +me to-day, I suppose," said he, smiling, "a hundred questions +or less; and I assure you there was not one foolish or vain +one among them; not one that was not sensible, and most of +them singularly so." + +"She was greatly pleased with her day," said Mrs. Lindsay. + +"I never saw such a baby face in my life," said Lady Keith, +"in a child of her years." + +"It is a face of uncommon intelligence!" said her brother. + +"It is both," said Mrs. Lindsay. + +"I was struck with it the other day," said Lady Keith "the +day she slept so long upon the sofa upstairs, after she was +dressed; she had been crying about something, and her +eyelashes were wet still, and she had that curious, grave, +innocent look you only see in infants; you might have thought +she was fourteen months instead of fourteen years old; +fourteen and a half, she says she is." + +"Crying?" said Mr. Lindsay, "What was the matter?" + +"Nothing," said Mrs. Lindsay, "but that she had been obliged +to submit to me in something that did not please her." + +"Did she give you any cause of displeasure?" + +"No; though I can see she has strong passions. But she is the +first child I ever saw, that I think I could not get angry +with." + +"Mother's heart half misgave her, I believe," said Lady Keith, +laughing; "she sat there looking at her for an hour." + +"She seems to me perfectly gentle and submissive," said Mr. +Lindsay. + +"Yes, but don't trust too much to appearances," said his +sister. "If she is not a true Lindsay, after all, I am +mistaken. Did you see her colour once or twice this morning +when something was said that did not please her?" + +"You can judge nothing from that," said Mr. Lindsay; "she +colours at everything. You should have seen her to-day when I +told her I would take her to Bannockburn." + +"Ah, she has got the right side of you, brother; you will be +able to discern no faults in her presently." + +"She has used no arts for it, sister; she is a straightforward +little hussy, and that is one thing I like about her; though I +was as near as possible being provoked with her once or twice +to-day. There is only one thing I wish was altered she has +her head filled with strange notions absurd for a child of +her age I don't know what I shall do to get rid of them." + +After some more conversation, it was decided that school would +be the best thing for this end, and half decided that Ellen +should go. + +But this half-decision Mr. Lindsay found it very difficult to +keep to, and circumstances soon destroyed it entirely. Company +was constantly coming and going at "the Braes," and much of it +a kind that Ellen exceedingly liked to see and hear; +intelligent, cultivated, well-informed people, whose +conversation was highly agreeable and always useful to her. +Ellen had nothing to do with the talking, so she made good use +of her ears. + +One evening Mr. Lindsay, a M. Villars, and M. Muller, a Swiss +gentleman and a noted man of science, very much at home in Mr. +Lindsay's house, were carrying on, in French, a conversation, +in which the two foreigners took part against their host. M. +Villars began with talking about Lafayette; from him they went +to the American revolution and Washington, and from them to +other patriots and other republics, ancient and modern MM. +Villars and Muller taking the side of freedom, and pressing +Mr. Lindsay hard with argument, authority, example, and +historical testimony. Ellen, as usual, was fast by his side, +and delighted to see that he could by no means make good his +ground. The ladies at the other end of the room would several +times have drawn her away, but happily for her, and also, as +usual, Mr. Lindsay's arm was around her shoulders, and she was +left in quiet to listen. The conversation was very lively, and +on a subject very interesting to her; for America had always +been a darling theme; Scottish struggles for freedom were +fresh in her mind; her attention had long ago been called to +Switzerland and its history by Alice and Mrs. Vawse, and +French history had formed a good part of her last winter's +reading. She listened with the most eager delight, too much +engrossed to notice the good-humoured glances that were every +now and then given her by one of the speakers. Not Mr. +Lindsay, though his hand was upon her shoulder, or playing +with the light curls that fell over her temples; _he_ did not +see that her face was flushed with interest, or notice the +quick smile and sparkle of the eye that followed every turn in +the conversation that favoured her wishes, or foiled his; it +was M. Muller. They came to the Swiss, and their famous +struggle for freedom against Austrian oppression. M. Muller +wished to speak of the noted battle in which that freedom was +made sure, but for the moment its name had escaped him. + +"Par ma foi," said M. Villars, "il m'a entiθrement passι!" + +Mr. Lindsay would not or could not help him out. But M. Muller +suddenly turned to Ellen, in whose face he thought he saw a +look of intelligence, and begged of her the missing name. + +"Est-ce, Morgarten, Monsieur?" said Ellen, blushing. + +"Morgarten! c'est ηa!" said he with a polite pleased bow of +thanks. Mr. Lindsay was little less astonished than the Duke +of Argyle, when his gardener claimed to be the owner of a +Latin work on mathematics. + +The conversation presently took a new turn with M. Villars; +and M. Muller withdrawing from it, addressed himself to Ellen. +He was a pleasant-looking elderly gentleman; she had never +seen him before that evening. + +"You know French well, then?" said he, speaking to her in that +tongue. + +"I don't know, Sir," said Ellen, modestly. + +"And you have heard of the Swiss mountaineers?" + +"Oh yes, Sir; a great deal." + +He opened his watch and showed her in the back of it an +exquisite little painting, asking her if she knew what it was. + +"It is an Alpine chalet, is it not, Sir?" + +He was pleased, and went on, always in French, to tell Ellen +that Switzerland was his country; and drawing a little aside +from the other talkers, he entered into a long, and to her +most delightful conversation. In the pleasantest manner he +gave her a vast deal of very entertaining detail about the +country, and the manners and habits of the people of the Alps, +especially in the Tyrol, where he had often travelled. It +would have been hard to tell whether the child had most +pleasure in receiving, or the man of deep study and science +most pleasure in giving, all manner of information. He saw, he +said, that she was very fond of the heroes of freedom, and +asked if she had ever heard of Andrew Hofer, the Tyrolese +peasant, who had led on his brethren in their noble endeavours +to rid themselves of French and Bavarian oppression. Ellen had +never heard of him. + +"You know William Tell?" + +"Oh yes," Ellen said; "she knew him." + +"And Bonaparte?" + +"Yes, very well." + +He went on then to give her, in a very interesting way the +history of Hofer; how when Napoleon made over his country to +the rule of the king of Bavaria, who oppressed them, they rose +in mass, overcame army after army that were sent against them +in their mountain fastnesses, and freed themselves from the +hated Bavarian government; how, years after, Napoleon was at +last too strong for them; Hofer and his companions defeated, +hunted like wild beasts, shot down like them; how Hofer was at +last betrayed by a friend, taken and executed, being only seen +to weep at parting with his family. The beautiful story was +well told, and the speaker was animated by the eager, deep +attention and sympathy of his auditor, whose changing colour, +smiles, and even tears, showed how well she entered into the +feelings of the patriots in their struggle, triumph, and +downfall; till, as he finished, she was left full of pity for +them and hatred for Napoleon. They talked of the Alps again. +M. Muller put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a little +painting in mosaic to show her, which he said had been given +him that day. It was a beautiful piece of pietra-dura work +Mont Blanc. He assured her the mountain often looked exactly +so. Ellen admired it very much. It was meant to be set for a +brooch, or some such thing, he said, and he asked if she would +keep it and sometimes wear it, to "remember the Swiss, and to +do him a pleasure." + +"Moi, Monsieur!" said Ellen, colouring high with surprise and +pleasure, "je suis bien obligιe; mais, Monsieur, je ne saurais +vous remercier?" + +He would count himself well paid, he said, with a single touch +of her lips. + +"Tenez, Monsieur!" said Ellen, blushing, but smiling, and +tendering back the mosaic. + +He laughed, and bowed, and begged her pardon, and said she +must keep it to assure him that she had forgiven him; and then +he asked by what name he might remember her. + +"Monsieur, je m'appelle Ellen M " + +She stopped short, in utter and blank uncertainty what to call +herself; Montgomery she dared not; Lindsay stuck in her +throat, + +"Have you forgotten it?" said M. Muller, amused at her look, +"or is it a secret?" + +"Tell M. Muller your name, Ellen," said Mr. Lindsay, turning +round from a group where he was standing at a little distance. +The tone was stern and displeased. Ellen felt it keenly, and +with difficulty and some hesitation still, murmured + +"Ellen Lindsay." + +"Lindsay! Are you the daughter of my friend Mr. Lindsay?" + +Again Ellen hesitated, in great doubt how to answer, but +finally, not without starting tears, said + +"Oui, Monsieur." + +"Your memory is bad to-night," said Mr. Lindsay, in her ear; +"you had better go where you can refresh it." + +Ellen took this as a hint to leave the room, which she did +immediately, not a little hurt at the displeasure she did not +think she had deserved; she loved Mr. Lindsay the best of all +her relations, and really loved him. She went to bed and to +sleep again that night with wet eyelashes. + +Meanwhile M. Muller was gratifying Mr. Lindsay in a high +degree by the praises he bestowed upon his daughter, her +intelligence, her manners, her modesty, and her _French_. He +asked if she was to be in Edinburgh that winter, and whether +she would be at school; and Mr. Lindsay declaring himself +undecided on the latter point, M. Muller said he should be +pleased, if she had leisure, to have her come to his rooms two +or three times a week to read with him. This offer, from a +person of M. Muller's standing and studious habits, Mr. +Lindsay justly took as both a great compliment and a great +promise of advantage to Ellen. He at once and with much +pleasure accepted it. So the qiestion of school was settled. + +Ellen resolved the next morning to lose no time in making up +her difference with Mr. Lindsay, and schooled herself to use a +form of words that she thought would please him. Pride said, +indeed, "Do no such thing; don't go to making acknowledgements +when you have not been in the wrong; you are not bound to +humble yourself before unjust displeasure." Pride pleaded +powerfully. But neither Ellen's heart not her conscience would +permit her to take this advice. "He loves me very much." she +thought, "and perhaps he did not understand me last night; and +besides, I owe him yes, I do! a child's obedience now. I +ought not to leave him displeased with me a moment longer than +I can help. And besides, I couldn't be happy so. God gives +grace to the humble; I will humble myself." + +To have a chance for executing this determination, she went +down-stairs a good deal earlier than usual; she knew Mr. +Lindsay was generally there before the rest of the family, and +she hoped to see him alone. It was too soon even for him, +however; the rooms were empty; so Ellen took her book from the +table, and being perfectly at peace with herself, sat down in +the window, and was presently lost in the interest of what she +was reading. She did not know of Mr. Lindsay's approach till a +little imperative tap on her shoulder startled her. + +"What were you thinking of last night? what made you answer M. +Muller in the way you did?" + +Ellen started up, but to utter her prepared speech was no +longer possible. + +"I did not know what to say," she said, looking down. + +"What do you mean by that?" said he, angrily. "Didn't you know +what I wished you to say?" + +"Yes but do not speak to me in that way!" exclaimed Ellen, +covering her face with her hands. Pride struggled to keep back +the tears that wanted to flow. + +"I shall choose my own method of speaking. Why did you not say +what you knew I wished you to say?" + +"I was afraid I didn't know but he would think what wasn't +true." + +"That is precisely what I wish him and all the world to think. +I will have no difference made, Ellen, either by them or by +you. Now lift up your head and listen to me," said he, taking +both her hands. "I lay my commands upon you, whenever the like +questions may be asked again, that you answer simply according +to what I have told you, without any explanation or addition. +It is true, and if people draw conclusions that are not true, +it is what I wish. Do you understand me?" + +Ellen bowed. + +"Will you obey me?" + +She answered again in the same mute way. + +He ceased to hold her at arms length, and sitting down in her +chair drew her close to him, saying more kindly + +"You must not displease me, Ellen." + +"I had no thought of displeasing you, Sir," said Ellen, +bursting into tears; "and I was very sorry for it last night. +I did not mean to disobey you; I only hesitated." + +"Hesitate no more. My commands may serve to remove the cause +of it. You are my daughter, Ellen, and I am your father. Poor +child," said he, for Ellen was violently agitated; "I don't +believe I shall have much difficulty with you." + +"If you will only not speak and look at me so," said Ellen; +"it makes me very unhappy." + +"Hush!" said he, kissing her; "do not give me occasion." + +"I did not give you occasion, Sir?" + +"Why, Ellen!" said Mr. Lindsay, half-displeased again, "I +shall begin to think your aunt Keith is right, that you are a +true Lindsay. But so am I, and I will have only obedience from +you, without either answering or argumenting." + +"You shall," murmured Ellen. "But do not be displeased with +me, father." + +Ellen had schooled herself to say that word; she knew it would +greatly please him; and she was not mistaken, though it was +spoken so low that his ears could but just catch it. +Displeasure was entirely overcome. He pressed her to his +heart, kissing her with great tenderness, and would not let +her go from his arms till he had seen her smile again; and +during all the day he was not willing to have her out of his +sight. + +It would have been easy that morning for Ellen to have made a +breech between them that would not readily have been healed. +One word of humility had prevented it all, and fastened her +more firmly than ever in Mr. Lindsay's affection. She met with +nothing from him but tokens of great and tender fondness; and +Lady Keith told her mother apart that there would be no doing +anything with George; she saw he was getting bewitched with +that child. + + +CHAPTER XLIX. + +Thought is free. + + +In a few weeks they moved to Edinburgh, where arrangements +were speedily made for giving Ellen every means of improvement +that masters and mistresses, books and instruments, could +afford. + +The house in George street was large and pleasant. To Ellen's +great joy, a pretty little room opening from the first +landing-place of the private staircase was assigned for her +special use as a study and work-room, and fitted up nicely for +her with a small bookcase, a practising piano, and various +etceteras. Here her beloved desk took its place on a table in +the middle of the floor, where Ellen thought she would make +many a new drawing when she was by herself. Her work-box was +accommodated with a smaller stand near the window. A glass +door at one end of the room opened upon a small iron balcony; +this door and balcony Ellen esteemed a very particular +treasure. With marvellous satisfaction she arranged and +arranged her little sanctum till she had all things to her +mind, and it only wanted, she thought, a glass of flowers. "I +will have that, too, some of these days," she said to herself; +and resolved to deserve her pretty room by being very busy +there. It was hers alone, open indeed to her friends when they +chose to keep her company; but lessons were taken elsewhere +in the library, or the music-room, or more frequently her +grandmother's dressing-room. Wherever, or whatever, Mrs. +Lindsay or Lady Keith was always present. + +Ellen was the plaything, pride, and delight of the whole +family. Not so much, however, Lady Keith's plaything as her +pride; while pride had a less share in the affection of the +other two, or rather, perhaps, was more over-topped by it. +Ellen felt, however, that all their hearts were set upon her, +felt it gratefully, and determined she would give them all the +pleasure she possibly could. Her love for other friends, +friends that they knew nothing of, American friends, was, she +knew, the sore point with them; she resolved not to speak of +any of those friends, nor allude to them, especially in any +way that should show how much of her heart was out of +Scotland. But this wise resolution it was very hard for poor +Ellen to keep. She was unaccustomed to concealments; and in +ways that she could neither foresee nor prevent, the unwelcome +truth would come up, and the sore was not healed. + +One day Ellen had a headache and was sent to lie down. Alone, +and quietly stretched out on her bed, very naturally Ellen's +thoughts went back to the last time she had a headache at +home, as she always called it to herself. She recalled with a +straitened heart the gentle and tender manner of John's care +for her; how nicely he had placed her on the sofa; how he sat +by her side bathing her temples, or laying his cool hand on +her forehead, and once, she remembered, his lips. "I wonder," +thought Ellen, "what I ever did to make him love me so much, +as I know he does!" She remembered how, when she was able to +listen, he still sat beside her, talking such sweet words of +kindness, and comfort, and amusement, that she almost loved to +be sick to have such tending, and looked up at him as at an +angel. She felt it all over again. Unfortunately, after she +had fallen asleep, Mrs. Lindsay came in to see how she was, +and two tears, the last pair of them, were slowly making their +way down her cheeks. Her grandmother saw them, and did not +rest till she knew the cause. Ellen was extremely sorry to +tell, she did her best to get off from it, but she did not +know how to evade questions; and those that were put to her +indeed admitted of no evasion. + +A few days later, just after they came to Edinburgh, it was +remarked one morning at breakfast that Ellen was very +straight, and carried herself well. + +"It is no thanks to me," said Ellen, smiling, "they never +would let me hold myself ill." + +"Who is 'they'?" said Lady Keith. + +"My brother and sister." + +"I wish, George," said Lady Keith, discontentedly, "that you +would lay your commands upon Ellen to use that form of +expression no more. My ears are absolutely sick of it." + +"You do not hear it very often, aunt Keith," Ellen could not +help saying. + +"Quite often enough; and I know it is upon your lips a +thousand times when you do not speak it." + +"And if Ellen does, we do not," said Mrs. Lindsay, "wish to +claim kindred with all the world." + +"How came you to take up such an absurd habit?" said Lady +Keith. "It isn't like you." + +"They took it up first," said Ellen; "I was too glad " + +"Yes, I dare say they had their reasons for taking it up," +said her aunt; "they had acted from interested motives, I have +no doubt; people always do." + +"You are very much mistaken, aunt Keith," said Ellen, with +uncontrollable feeling; "you do not in the least know what you +are talking about!" + +Instantly, Mr. Lindsay's fingers tapped her lips. Ellen +coloured painfully, but after an instant's hesitation she said + + +"I beg your pardon, Aunt Keith, I should not have said that." + +"Very well!" said Mr. Lindsay. "But understand, Ellen, however +you may have taken it up this habit you will lay it down +for the future. Let us hear no more of brothers and sisters. I +cannot, as your Grandmother says, fraternize with all the +world, especially with unknown relations." + +"I am very glad you have made that regulation," said Mrs. +Lindsay. + +"I cannot conceive how Ellen has got such a way of it," said +Lady Keith. + +"It is very natural," said Ellen, with some huskiness of +voice, "that I should say so, because I feel so." + +"You do not mean to say," said Mr. Lindsay, "that this Mr. and +Miss Somebody these people I don't know their names " + +"There is only one now, Sir." + +"This person you call your brother do you mean to say you +have the same regard for him as if he had been born so?" + +"No," said Ellen, with cheek and eye suddenly firing, "but a +thousand times more!" + +She was exceedingly sorry the next minute after she had said +this, for she knew it had given both pain and displeasure in a +great degree. No answer was made. Ellen dared not look at +anybody, and needed not; she wished the silence might be +broken; but nothing was heard except a low "whew!" from Mr. +Lindsay, till he rose up and left the room. Ellen was sure he +was very much displeased. Even the ladies were too much +offended to speak on the subject; and she was merely bade to +go to her room. She went there, and sitting down on the floor, +covered her face with her hands. "What shall I do? what shall +I do?" she said to herself, "I never shall govern this tongue +of mine. Oh, I wish I had not said that! they will never +forgive it. What can I do to make them pleased with me again? +Shall I go to my father's study and beg him but I can't ask +him to forgive me I haven't done wrong I can't unsay what +I said. I can do nothing. I can only go in the way of my duty, +and do the best I can, and maybe they will come round again. +But, oh dear!" + +A flood of tears followed this resolution. + +Ellen kept it; she tried to be blameless in all her work and +behaviour, but she sorrowfully felt that her friends did not +forgive her. There was a cool air of displeasure about all +they said and did; the hand of fondness was not laid upon her +shoulder, she was not wrapped in loving arms, as she used to +be a dozen times a day: no kisses fell on her brow or lips. +Ellen felt it, more from Mr. Lindsay than both the others; her +spirits sunk; she had been forbidden to speak of her absent +friends, but that was not the way to make her forget them; and +there was scarce a minute in the day when her brother was not +present to her thoughts. + +Sunday came her first Sunday in Edinburgh. All went to +church in the morning; in the afternoon Ellen found that +nobody was going; her grandmother was lying down. She asked +permission to go alone. + +"Do you want to go because you think you must, or for +pleasure?" said Mrs. Lindsay. + +"For pleasure," said Ellen's tongue and her opening eyes at +the same time. + +"You may go." + +With eager delight Ellen got ready, and was hastening along +the hall to the door, when she met Mr. Lindsay. + +"Where are you going?" + +"To church, Sir." + +"Alone! what do you want to go for! No, no, I shan't let you. +Come in here I want you with me; you have been once to-day +already, haven't you? You do not want to go again?" + +"I do indeed, Sir, very much," said Ellen, as she reluctantly +followed him into the library, "if you have no objection. You +know I have not seen Edinburgh yet." + +"Edinburgh! that's true, so you haven't," said he, looking at +her discomfited face. "Well, go, if you want to go so much." + +Ellen got as far as the hall door, no further; she rushed back +to the library. + +"I did not say right when I said that," she burst forth; "that +was not the reason I wanted to go. I will stay, if you wish +me, Sir." + +"I don't wish it," said, he in surprise; "I don't know what +you mean; I am willing you should go, if you like it. Away +with you! it is time." + +Once more Ellen set out, but this time with a heart full +much too full to think of anything she saw by the way. It was +with a singular feeling of pleasure that she entered the +church alone. It was a strange church to her never seen but +once before; and as she softly passed up the broad aisle, she +saw nothing in the building or the people around her that was +not strange no familiar face, no familiar thing. But it was +a church, and she was alone, quite alone in the midst of that +crowd; and she went up to the empty pew and ensconced herself +in the far corner of it, with a curious feeling of quiet and +of being at home. She was no sooner seated, however, than, +leaning forward as much as possible to screen herself from +observation, bending her head upon her knees, she burst into +an agony of tears. It was a great relief to be able to weep +freely; at home she was afraid of being seen, or heard, or +questioned; now she was alone and free, and she poured out her +very heart in weeping, that she with difficulty kept from +being loud weeping. + +"Oh, how could I say that! how could I say that! Oh, what +_would_ John have thought of me if he had heard it? Am I +beginning already to lose my truth? am I going backward +already? Oh, what shall I do! what will become of me if I do +not watch over myself; there is no one to help me or lead me +right not a single one all to lead me wrong! what will +become of me? But there is One who has promised to keep those +who follow him he is sufficient, without any others. I have +not kept near enough to him! that is it; I have not remembered +nor loved him. 'If ye love me, keep my commandments' I have +not! I have not! Oh, but I will! I will; and he will be with +me, and help me, and bless me, and all will go right with me." + +With bitter tears Ellen mingled as eager prayers for +forgiveness and help to be faithful. She resolved that +nothing, come what would, should tempt her to swerve one iota +from the straight line of truth; she resolved to be more +careful of her private hour; she thought she had scarcely had +her full hour a day lately; she resolved to make the Bible her +only and her constant rule of life in everything: and she +prayed such prayers as a heart thoroughly in earnest can pray, +for the seal to these resolutions. Not one word of the sermon +did Ellen hear; but she never passed a more profitable hour in +church in her life. + +_All_ her tears were not from the spring of these thoughts and +feelings; some were the pouring out of gathered sadness of the +week; some came from recollections, oh, how tender and strong! +of lost and distant friends. Her mother, and Alice, and Mr. +Humphreys, and Margery, and Mr. Van Brunt, and Mr. George +Marshman; and she longed, with longing that seemed as if it +would have burst her heart, to see her brother. She longed for +the pleasant voice, the eye of thousand expressions, into +which she always looked as if she had never seen it before, +the calm look that told he was satisfied with her, the touch +of his hand, which many a time had said a volume. Ellen +thought she would give anything in the world to see him and +hear him speak one word. As this could not be, she resolved +with the greatest care to do what would please him; that when +she did see him, he might find her all he wished. + +She had wept herself out; she had been refreshed and +strengthened herself by fleeing to the stronghold of the +prisoners of hope; and when the last hymn was given out, she +raised her head and took the book to find it. To her great +surprise, she saw Mr. Lindsay sitting at the other end of the +pew, with folded arms, like a man not thinking of what was +going on around him. Ellen was startled, but obeying the +instinct that told her what he would like, she immediately +moved down the pew and stood beside him while the last hymn +was singing; and if Ellen had joined in no other part of the +service that afternoon, she at least did in that with all her +heart. They walked home then without a word on either side. +Mr. Lindsay did not quit her hand till he had drawn her into +the library. There he threw off her bonnet and wrappers, and +taking her in his arms, exclaimed + +"My poor little darling! what was the matter with you this +afternoon?" + +There was so much kindness again in his tone, that, overjoyed, +Ellen eagerly returned his caress, and assured him that there +was nothing the matter with her now. + +"Nothing the matter!" said he, tenderly pressing her face +against his own, "nothing the matter! with these pale cheeks +and wet eyes! nothing now, Ellen?" + +"Only that I am so glad to hear you speak kindly to me again, +Sir." + +"Kindly! I will never speak any other way but kindly to you, +daughter. Come! I will not have any more tears you have shed +enough for to-day, I am sure; lift up your face, and I will +kiss them away. What was the matter with you, my child?" + +But he had to wait a little while for an answer. + +"What was it, Ellen?" + +"One thing," said Ellen, "I was sorry for what I had said to +you, Sir, just before I went out." + +"What was that? I do not remember anything that deserved to be +a cause of grief." + +"I told you, Sir, when I wanted you to let me go to church, +that I hadn't seen Edinburgh yet." + +"Well?" + +"Well, Sir, that wasn't being quite true; and I was very sorry +for it." + +"Not true? Yes, it was; what do you mean? you had _not_ seen +Edinburgh." + +"No, Sir; but I mean _that_ was true; but I said it to make +you believe what wasn't true." + +"How?" + +"I meant you to think, Sir, that that was the reason why I +wanted to go to church to see the city and the new sights; +and it wasn't at all." + +"What was it then?" + +Ellen hesitated. + +"I always love to go, Sir; and, besides, I believe I wanted to +be alone." + +"And you were not, after all," said Mr. Lindsay, again +pressing her cheek to his, "for I followed you there. But, +Ellen, my child, you were troubled without reason; you had +said nothing that was false." + +"Ah, Sir, but I had made you believe what was false." + +"Upon my word," said Mr. Lindsay, "you are a nice reasoner. +And are you always true upon this close scale?" + +"I wish I was, Sir; but you see I am not. I am sure I hate +everything else!" + +"Well, I will not quarrel with you for being true," said Mr. +Lindsay; "I wish there was a little more of it in the world. +Was this the cause of all those tears this afternoon?" + +"No, Sir not all." + +"What beside, Ellen?" + +Ellen looked down, and was silent. + +"Come, I must know." + +"Must I tell you all, Sir?" + +"You must, indeed," said he, smiling; "I will have the whole, +daughter." + +"I had been feeling very sorry all the week, because you, and +grandmother, and aunt Keith, were displeased with me." + +Again Mr. Lindsay's silent caress, in its tenderness, seemed +to say she should never have the same complaint to make again. + +"Was that all, Ellen?" as she hesitated. + +"No, Sir." + +"Well?" + +"I wish you wouldn't ask me further; please do not. I shall +displease you again." + +"I will not be displeased." + +"I was thinking of Mr. Humphreys," said Ellen, in a low tone. + +"Who is that?" + +"You know, Sir; you say I must not call him " + +"What were you thinking of him?" + +"I was wishing very much I could see him again." + +"Well, you _are_ a truth-teller," said Mr. Lindsay, "or bolder +than I think you." + +"You said you would not be displeased, Sir." + +"Neither will I, daughter; but what shall I do to make you +forget these people?" + +"Nothing, Sir; I cannot forget them; I shouldn't deserve to +have you love me a bit if I could. Let me love them, and do +not be angry with me for it." + +"But I am not satisfied to have your body here, and your heart +somewhere else." + +I must have a poor little kind of heart," said Ellen, smiling +amidst her tears, "if I had room in it for only one person." + +"Ellen," said Mr. Lindsay, inquisitively, "did you _insinuate_ a +falsehood there?" + +"No, Sir." + +"There is honesty in those eyes," said he, "if there is +honesty anywhere in the world. I am satisfied, that is, half +satisfied. Now lie there, my little daughter, and rest," said +he, laying her upon the sofa; "you look as if you needed it." + +"I don't need anything now," said Ellen, as she laid her cheek +upon the grateful pillow, "except one thing if grandmother +would only forgive me too." + +"You must try not to offend your grandmother, Ellen, for she +does not very readily forgive; but I think we can arrange this +matter. Go you to sleep." + +"I wonder," said Ellen, smiling as she closed her eyes, "why +everybody calls me 'little;' I don't think I am very little. +Everybody says 'little.' " + +Mr. Lindsay thought he understood it, when a few minutes after +he sat watching her as she really had fallen asleep. The +innocent brow, the perfect sweet calm of the face, seemed to +belong to much younger years. Even Mr. Lindsay could not help +recollecting the housekeeper's comment "Heaven's peace +within;" scarcely Ellen's own mother ever watched over her +with more fond tenderness than her adopted father did now. + +For several days after this he would hardly permit her to +leave him. He made her bring her books and study where he was, +he went out and came in with her, and kept her by his side +whenever they joined the rest of the family at meals or in the +evening. Whether Mr. Lindsay intended it or not, this soon had +the effect to abate the displeasure of his mother and sister. +Ellen was almost taken out of their hands, and they thought it +expedient not to let him have the whole of her. And though +Ellen could better bear their cold looks and words since she +had Mr. Lindsay's favour again, she was very glad when they +smiled upon her too, and went dancing about with quite a happy +face. + +She was now very busy. She had masters for the piano and +singing and different branches of knowledge; she went to Mr. +Muller regularly twice a week; and soon her riding attendance +began. She had said no more on the subject, but went quietly, +hoping they would find out their mistake before long. Lady +Keith always accompanied her. + +One day Ellen had ridden near her usual time, when a young +lady with whom she attended a German class came up to where +she was resting. This lady was several years older than Ellen, +but had taken a fancy to her. + +"How finely you got on yesterday," said she, "making us all +ashamed. Ah, I guess M. Muller helped you." + +"Yes," said Ellen, smiling, "he did help me a little; he +helped me with those troublesome pronunciations." + +"With nothing else, I suppose! Ah, well, we must submit to be +stupid. How do you do today?" + +"I am very tired, Miss Gordon." + +"Tired! Oh, you're not used to it." + +"No, it isn't that," said Ellen; "I _am_ used to it that is +the reason I am tired. I am accustomed to ride up and down the +country at any pace I like; and it is very tiresome to walk +stupidly round and round for an hour." + +"But do you know how to manage a horse? I thought you were +only just beginning to learn." + +"Oh, no, I have been learning this great while; only they +don't think I know how, and they have never seen me. Are you +just come, Miss Gordon?" + +"Yes, and they are bringing out Sophronisbe for me do you +know Sophronisbe? Look, that light gray; isn't she beautiful? +she's the loveliest creature in the whole stud." + +"O, I know!" said Ellen; "I saw you on her the other day; she +went charmingly. How long shall I be kept walking here, Miss +Gordon?" + +"Why, I don't know; I should think they would find out. What +does De Courcy say to you?" + +"O, he comes and looks at me, and says, 'Trθs bien trθs +bien,' and 'Allez comme ηa,' and then he walks off." + +"Well, I declare that is too bad," said Miss Gordon, laughing. +"Look here I've got a good thought in my head: suppose you +mount Sophronisbe in my place, without saying anything to +anybody, and let them see what you are up to. Can you trust +yourself? she's very spirited." + +"I could trust myself," said Ellen; "but, thank you, I think I +had better not." + +"Afraid?" + +"No, not at all; but my aunt and father would not like it." + +"Nonsense! how should they dislike it? There's no sort of +danger, you know. Come! I thought you sat wonderfully for a +beginner. I am surprised De Courcy hadn't better eyes. I guess +you have learned German before, Ellen? Come, will you?" + +But Ellen declined, preferring her plodding walk round the +ring to any putting of herself forward. Presently Mr. Lindsay +came in. It was the first time he had been there. His eye soon +singled out Ellen. + +"My daughter sits well," he remarked to the riding-master. + +"A merveille! Mademoiselle Lindesay does ride +remarquablement pour une beginner qui ne fait que commencer. +Would it be possible that she has had no lessons before?" + +"Why, yes, she has had lessons of what sort I don't know," +said Mr. Lindsay, going up to Ellen. "How do you like it, +Ellen?" + +"I don't like it at all, Sir." + +"I thought you were so fond of riding." + +"I don't call this riding, Sir." + +"Ha! what _do_ you call riding? Here, M. De Courcy, won't you +have the goodness to put this young lady on another horse, and +see if she knows anything about handling him?" + +"With great pleasure!" M. De Courcy would do anything that was +requested of him. Ellen was taken out of the ring of walkers +and mounted on a fine animal, and set by herself to have her +skill tried in as many various ways as M. De Courcy's +ingenuity could point out. Never did she bear herself more +erectly; never were her hand and her horse's mouth on nicer +terms of acquaintanceship; never, even to please her master, +had she so given her whole soul to the single business of +managing her horse and herself perfectly well. She knew, as +little as she cared, that a number of persons besides her +friends were standing to look at her. She thought of only two +people there, Mr. Lindsay and her aunt; and the riding-master, +as his opinions might affect theirs. + +"C'est trθs bien c'est trθs bien," he muttered; "c'est +parfaitement, Monsieur, mademoiselle votre fille has had +good lessons; voilΰ qui est entiθrement comme il faut." + +"Assez bien," said Mr. Lindsay, smiling. "The little gipsy!" + +"Mademoiselle," said the riding-master, as she paused before +them, "pourquoi, wherefore have you stopped in your canter +tantτt a little while ago et puis recommencι?" + +"Monsieur, he led with the wrong foot." + +"C'est ηa justement!" he exclaimed. + +"Have you practiced leaping, Ellen?" + +"Yes, Sir." + +"Try her, M. De Courcy. How high will you go, Ellen?" + +"As high as you please, Sir," said Ellen, leaning over and +patting her horse's neck to hide her smile. + +"How you look, child!" said Mr. Lindsay, in a pleased tone. +"So this is what you call riding?" + +"It is a little more like it, Sir." + +Ellen was tried with standing and running leaps, higher and +higher, till Mr. Lindsay would have no more of it; and M. De +Courcy assured him that his daughter had been taught by a very +accomplished rider, and there was little or nothing left for +him to do; "il n'y pouvoit plus;" but he should be very happy +to have her come there to practise, and show an example to his +pupils. + +The very bright colour in Ellen's face as she heard this might +have been mistaken for the flush of gratified vanity: it was +nothing less. Not one word of this praise did she take to +herself, nor had she sought for herself; it was all for +somebody else; and perhaps so Lady Keith understood it, for +she looked rather discomfited. But Mr. Lindsay was exceedingly +pleased, and promised Ellen that as soon as the warm weather +came she'd have a horse, and rides to her heart's content. + + +CHAPTER L. + +Trials without. + + +Ellen might now have been in some danger of being spoiled +not, indeed, with over-indulgence, for that was not the temper +of the family but from finding herself a person of so much +consequence. She could not but feel that in the minds of every +one of her three friends she was the object of greatest +importance; their thoughts and care were principally occupied +with her. Even Lady Keith was perpetually watching, +superintending, and admonishing; though she every now and then +remarked, with a kind of surprise, that "really she scarcely +ever had to say anything to Ellen; she thought she must know +things by instinct." To Mr. Lindsay and his mother she was the +idol of life; and except when by chance her will might cross +theirs, she had what she wished, and did what she pleased. + +But Ellen happily had two safeguards which effectually kept +her from pride and presumption. + +One was her love for her brother, and longing remembrance of +him. There was no one to take his place, not indeed in her +affections, for that would have been impossible, but in the +daily course of her life. She missed him in everything. She +had abundance of kindness and fondness shown her, but the +_sympathy_ was wanting. She was talked _to_, but not _with_. No +one now knew always what she was thinking of, nor, if they did, +would patiently draw out her thoughts, canvas them, set them +right, or show them wrong. No one now could tell what she was +_feeling_, nor had the art sweetly, in a way she scarce knew +how, to do away with sadness, or dulness, or perverseness, and +leave her spirits clear and bright as the noonday. With all +the petting and fondness she had from her new friends, Ellen +felt alone. She was petted and fondled as a darling possession + a dear plaything a thing to be cared for, taught, +governed, disposed of, with the greatest affection and +delight; but John's was a higher style of kindness, that +entered into all her innermost feelings and wants; and his was +a higher style of authority, too, that reached where theirs +could never attain an authority Ellen always felt it utterly +impossible to dispute; it was sure to be exerted on the side +of what was right; and she could better have borne hard words +from Mr. Lindsay than a glance of her brother's eye. Ellen +made no objection to the imperativeness of her new guardians; +it seldom was called up so as to trouble her, and she was not +of late particularly fond of having her own way; but she +sometimes drew comparisons. + +"I could not any sooner I could not as soon have disobeyed +John; and yet he never would have spoken to me as they do if I +had." + +"Some pride perhaps?" she said, remembering Mr. Dundas's +words; "I should say a great deal, John isn't proud; and yet, +I don't know, he isn't proud as they are; I wish I knew what +kinds of pride are right and what wrong; he would tell me if +he was here." + +"What are you in a 'brown study' about, Ellen?" said Mr. +Lindsay? + +"I was thinking, Sir, about different kinds of pride; I wish I +knew the right from the wrong or is there any good kind?" + +"All good, Ellen, all good," said Mr. Lindsay, "provided you +do not have too much of it." + +"Would you like me to be proud, Sir?" + +"Yes," said he, laughing and pinching her cheek, "as proud as +you like, if you only don't let me see any of it." + +Not very satisfactory; but that was the way with the few +questions of any magnitude Ellen ventured to ask; she was +kissed and laughed at, called metaphysical or philosophical, +and dismissed with no light on the subject. She sighed for her +brother. The hours with M. Muller were the best substitute she +had; they were dearly prized by her, and, to say truth, by +him. He had no family, he lived alone; and the visits of his +docile and intelligent little pupil became very pleasant +breaks in the monotony of his home life. Truly kind-hearted +and benevolent, and a true lover of knowledge, he delighted to +impart it. Ellen soon found she might ask him as many +questions as she pleased, that were at all proper to the +subject they were upon; and he, amused and interested, was +equally able and willing to answer her. Often when not +particularly busy, he allowed her hour to become two. +Excellent hours for Ellen. M. Muller had made his proposition +to Mr. Lindsay, partly from grateful regard for him, and +partly to gratify the fancy he had taken to Ellen on account +of her simplicity, intelligence, and good manners. This latter +motive did not disappoint him. He grew very much attached to +his little pupil; an attachment which Ellen faithfully +returned, both in kind, and by every trifling service that it +could fall in her way to render him. Fine flowers and fruit, +that it was her special delight to carry to M. Muller; little +jobs of copying, or setting in order some disorderly matters +in his rooms, where he soon would trust her to do anything; or +a book from her father's library; and once or twice when he +was indisposed, reading to him, as she did by the hour +patiently, matters that could neither interest nor concern +her. On the whole, and with good reason, the days when they +were to meet were hailed with as much pleasure, perhaps, by M. +Muller as by Ellen herself. + +Her other safeguard was the precious hour alone, which she had +promised John never to lose when she could help it. The only +time she could have was the early morning, before the rest of +the family were up. To this hour, and it was often more than +an hour, Ellen was faithful. Her little Bible was extremely +precious now; Ellen had never gone to it with a deeper sense +of need; and never did she find more comfort in being able to +disburden her heart in prayer of its load of cares and wishes. +Never more than now had she felt the preciousness of that +Friend who draws closer to his children the closer they draw +to him; she had never realized more the joy of having him to +go to. It was her special delight to pray for those loved ones +she could do nothing else for; it was a joy to think that He +who hears prayer is equally present with all his people, and +that though thousands of miles lie between the petitioner and +the petitioned-for, the breath of prayer may span the distance +and pour blessings on the far-off head. The burden of thoughts +and affections gathered during the twenty-three hours, was +laid down in the twenty-fourth; and Ellen could meet her +friends at the breakfast-table with a sunshiny face. Little +they thought where her heart had been, or where it had got its +sunshine. + +But notwithstanding this, Ellen had too much to remember and +regret, than to be otherwise than sober, soberer than her +friends liked. They noticed with sorrow that the sunshine wore +off as the day rolled on; that though ready to smile upon +occasion, her face always settled again into a gravity they +thought altogether unsuitable. Mrs. Lindsay fancied she knew +the cause, and resolved to break it up. + +From the first of Ellen's coming, her grandmother had taken +the entire charge of her toilet. Whatever Mrs. Lindsay's +notions in general might be as to the propriety of young girls +learning to take care of themselves, Ellen was much too +precious a plaything to be trusted to any other hands, even +her own. At eleven o'clock regularly every day she went to her +grandmother's dressing-room for a very elaborate bathing and +dressing; though not a very long one, for all Mrs. Lindsay's +were energetic. Now, without any hint as to the reason, she +was directed to come to her grandmother an hour before the +breakfast-time, to go through the course of cold-water, +sponging, and hair-gloving that Mrs. Lindsay was accustomed to +administer at eleven. Ellen heard in silence, and obeyed, but +made up her hour by rising earlier than usual, so as to have +it before going to her grandmother. It was a little difficult +at first, but she soon got into the habit of it, though the +mornings were dark and cold. After a while it chanced that +this came to Mrs. Lindsay's ears, and Ellen was told to come +to her as soon as she was out of bed in the morning. + +"But Grandmother," said Ellen, "I am up a great while before +you; I should find you asleep; don't I come soon enough?" + +"What do you get up so early for?" + +"You know, Ma'am, I told you some time ago. I want some time +to myself." + +"It is not good for you to be up so long before breakfast, and +in these cold mornings. Do not rise in future till I send for +you." + +"But, Grandmother, that is the only time for me there isn't +an hour after breakfast that I can have regularly to myself; +and I cannot be happy if I do not have some time." + +"Let it be as I said," said Mrs. Lindsay. + +"Couldn't you let me come to you at eleven o'clock again, +Ma'am? do, Grandmother!" + +Mrs. Lindsay touched her lips; a way of silencing her that +Ellen particularly disliked, and which both Mr. Lindsay and +his mother was accustomed to use. + +She thought a great deal on the subject, and came soberly to +the conclusion that it was her duty to disobey. "I promised +John," she said to herself; "I will never break that promise! +I'll do anything rather. And besides, if I had not, it is just +as much my duty, a duty that no one here has a right to +command me against. I will do what I think right, come what +may." + +She could not, without its coming to the knowledge of her +grandmother. A week or two after the former conversation, Mrs. +Lindsay made inquiries of Mason, her woman, who was obliged to +confess that Miss Ellen's light was always burning when she +went to call her. + +"Ellen," said Mrs. Lindsay the same day, "have you obeyed me +in what I told you the other morning? about lying in bed till +you are sent for?" + +"No, Ma'am." + +"You are frank! to venture to tell me so. Why have you +disobeyed me?" + +"Because, Grandmother, I thought it was right." + +"You think it is right to disobey, do you?" + +"Yes, Ma'am, if " + +"If what?" + +"I mean, Grandmother, there is One I must obey even before +you." + +"If what?" repeated Mrs. Lindsay. + +"Please do not ask me, Grandmother; I don't want to say that." + +"Say it at once, Ellen." + +"I think it is right to disobey if I am told to do what is +wrong," said Ellen, in a low voice. + +"Are you to be the judge of right and wrong?" + +"No, Ma'am." + +"Who then?" + +"The Bible." + +"I do not know what is the reason," said Mrs. Lindsay, "that I +cannot be very angry with you. Ellen, I repeat the order I +gave you the other day. Promise me to obey." + +"I cannot, Grandmother; I must have that hour; I cannot do +without it." + +"So must I be obeyed, I assure you, Ellen. You will sleep in +my room henceforth." + +Ellen heard her in despair; she did not know what to do. +_Appealing_ was not to be thought of. There was, as she said, no +time she could count upon after breakfast. During the whole +day and evening she was either busy with her studies or +masters, or in the company of her grandmother or Mr. Lindsay; +and if not there, liable to be called to them at any moment. +Her grandmother's expedient for increasing her cheerfulness +had marvellous ill success. Ellen drooped under the sense of +wrong, as well as the loss of her greatest comfort. For two +days she felt and looked forlorn; and smiling now seemed to be +a difficult matter. Mr. Lindsay happened to be remarkably busy +those two days, so that he did not notice what was going on. +At the end of them, however, in the evening, he called Ellen +to him, and whisperingly asked what was the matter. + +"Nothing Sir," said Ellen, "only grandmother will not let me +do something I cannot be happy without doing." + +"Is it one of the things you want to do because it is right, +whether it is convenient or not?" he asked, smiling. Ellen +could not smile. + +"O, father," she whispered, putting her face close to his, "if +you would only get grandmother to let me do it!" + +The words were spoken with a sob, and Mr. Lindsay felt her +warm tears upon his neck. He had, however, far too much +respect for his mother to say anything against her proceedings +while Ellen was present; he simply answered that she must do +whatever her grandmother said. But when Ellen had left the +room, which she did immediately, he took the matter up. Mrs. +Lindsay explained, and insisted that Ellen was spoiling +herself for life and the world by a set of dull religious +notions that were utterly unfit for a child; that she would +very soon get over thinking about her habit of morning prayer, +and would then do much better. Mr. Lindsay looked grave; but +with Ellen's tears yet wet upon his cheek, he could not +dismiss the matter so lightly, and persisted in desiring that +his mother should give up the point, which she utterly refused +to do. + +Ellen, meanwhile, had fled to her own room. The moonlight was +quietly streaming in through the casement; it looked to her +like an old friend. She threw herself down on the floor, close +by the glass, and after some tears, which she could not help +shedding, she raised her head and looked thoughtfully out. It +was very seldom now that she had a chance of the kind; she was +rarely alone but when she was busy. + +"I wonder if that same moon is this minute shining in at the +glass door at home? no, to be sure it can't this minute +what am I thinking of? but it was there, or will be there +let me see east west it was there some time this +morning, I suppose, looking right into our sitting-room. Oh, +moon, I wish I was in your place for once, to look in there +too! But it is all empty now there's nobody there Mr. +Humphreys would be in his study how lonely, how lonely he +must be! Oh, I wish I was back there with him! John isn't +there, though no matter, he will be and I could do so much +for Mr. Humphreys in the meanwhile. He must miss me. I wonder +where John is nobody writes to me; I should think some one +might; I wonder if I am ever to see them again. Oh, he will +come to see me surely before he goes home! but then he will +have to go away without me again I am fast now, fast enough + but oh! am I to be separated from them for ever! Well! I +shall see them in heaven!" + +It was a "well" of bitter acquiescence, and washed down with +bitter tears. + +"Is it my bonny Miss Ellen?" said the voice of the +housekeeper, coming softly in; "is my bairn sitting a' her +lane i' the dark? Why are ye no wi' the rest o' the folk, Miss +Ellen?" + +"I like to be alone, Mrs. Allen, and the moon shines in here +nicely." + +"Greeting!" exclaimed the old lady, drawing nearer, "I ken it +by the sound of your voice; greeting eenow! Are ye no weel, +Miss Ellen? What vexes my bairn? Oh, but your father would be +vexed an he kenned it!" + +"Never mind, Mrs. Allen," said Ellen; "I shall get over it +directly; don't say anything about it." + +"But I'm wae to see you," said the kind old woman, stooping +down and stroking the head that again Ellen had bowed on her +knees; "will ye no tell me what vexes ye? Ye suld be as blithe +as a bird the lang day." + +"I can't, Mrs. Allen, while I am away from my friends." + +"Friends! and wha has mair frinds than yoursel,' Miss Ellen, +or better frinds? father and mother and a'; where wad ye find +thae that will love you mair?" + +"Ah , but I haven't my brother!" sobbed Ellen. + +"Your brither, Miss Ellen? An' wa's he?" + +"He's everything, Mrs. Allen! he's everything! I shall never +be happy without him! never! never!" + +"Hush, dear Miss Ellen! for the love of a' that's gude; dinna +talk that gate, and dinna greet sae! your father wad be sair +vexed to hear ye or to see ye." + +"I cannot help it," said Ellen; "it is true." + +"It may be sae; but dear Miss Ellen, dinna let it come to your +father's ken; ye're his very heart's idol; he disna merit +ought but gude frae ye." + +"I know it, Mrs. Allen," said Ellen, weeping, "and so I do +love him better than anybody in the world, except two. But +oh! I want my brother; I don't know how to be happy or good +either without him. I want him all the while." + +"Miss Ellen, I kenned and loved your dear mither weel for mony +a day will ye mind if I speak a word to her bairn?" + +"No, dear Mrs. Allen, I'll thank you. Did you know my mother?" + +"Wha suld if I didna? she was brought up in my arms, and a +dear lassie. Ye're no muckle like her, Miss Ellen; ye're mair +bonny than her; and no a'thegither sae frack; though she was +douce and kind too." + +"I wish," Ellen began, and stopped. + +"My dear bairn, there is Ane abuve what disposes a' things for +us; and he isna weel pleased when His children fash themselves +wi' His dispensations. He has ta'en and placed you here for +your ain gude, I trust I'm sure it's for the gude of us a' +and if ye haena a' things ye wad wish, Miss Ellen, ye hae Him! +dinna forget that, my ain bairn." + +Ellen returned heartily and silently the embrace of the old +Scotch-woman, and when she left her, set herself to follow her +advice. She tried to gather her scattered thoughts, and smooth +her ruffled feelings, in using this quiet time to the best +advantage. At the end of half an hour she felt like another +creature, and began to refresh herself with softly singing +some of her old hymns. + +The argument which was carried on in the parlour sunk at +length into silence without coming to any conclusion. + +"Where is Miss Ellen?" Mrs. Lindsay asked of a servant that +came in. + +"She is up in her room, Ma'am, singing." + +"Mr. Lindsay stood still at the door." + +"Tell her I want her." + +"No stop," said Mr. Lindsay;"I'll go myself." + +Her door was a little ajar, and he softly opened it without +disturbing her. Ellen was still sitting on the floor before +the window, looking out through it, and in rather a low tone +singing the last verse of the hymn "Rock of Ages:" + + +"While I draw this fleeting breath +When my eyelids close in death +When I rise to worlds unknown, +And behold Thee on thy throne +Rock of Ages, cleft for me, +Let me hide myself in Thee!" + + +Mr. Lindsay stood still at the door. Ellen paused a minute, +and then sung "Jerusalem my happy home." Her utterance was so +distinct that he heard every word. He did not move till she +had finished, and then he came softly in. + +"Singing songs to the moon, Ellen?" + +Ellen started, and got up from the floor. + +"No, Sir; I was singing them to myself." + +"Not entirely, for I heard the last one. Why do you make +yourself sober singing such sad things?" + +"I don't, Sir; they are not sad to me they are delightful, +I love them dearly." + +"How came you to love them? It is not natural for a child of +your age. What do you love them for, my little daughter?" + +"Oh, Sir, there are a great many reasons I don't know how +many." + +"I will have patience, Ellen; I want to hear them all." + +"I love them because I love to think of the things the hymns +are about I love the tunes dearly, and I like both the words +and the tunes better, I believe, because I have sung them so +often with friends." + +"Humph! I guessed as much. Isn't that the strongest reason of +the three?" + +"I don't know, Sir; I don't think it is." + +"Is all your heart in America, Ellen, or have you any left to +bestow on us?" + +"Yes, Sir." + +"Not very much!" + +"I love you, father," said Ellen, laying her cheek gently +alongside of his. + +"And your grandmother, Ellen?" said Mr. Lindsay, clasping his +arms around her. + +"Yes, Sir." + +But he well understood that the "yes" was fainter. + +"And your aunt? speak, Ellen." + +"I don't love her as much as I wish I did," said Ellen; "I +love her a little, I suppose. Oh, why do you ask me such a +hard question, father?" + +"That is something you have nothing to do with," said Mr. +Lindsay, half-laughing. "Sit down here," he added, placing her +on his knee, "and sing to me again." + +Ellen was heartened by the tone of his voice, and pleased with +the request. She immediately sang with great spirit a little +Methodist hymn she had learned when a mere child. The wild air +and simple words singularly suited each other: + + +"O Canaan, bright Canaan, +I'm bound for the land of Canaan, +O Canaan! It is my happy, happy home! +I am bound for the land of Canaan." + + +"Does that sound sad, Sir?" + +"Why yes,I think it does, rather, Ellen. Does it make you feel +merry?" + +"Not merry, Sir it isn't merry; but I like it very much." + +"The tune or the words?" + +"Both, Sir." + +"What do you mean by the land of Canaan?" + +"Heaven, Sir." + +"And do you like to think about that, at your age?" + +"Why, certainly, Sir! Why not?" + +"Why _do_ you?" + +"Because it is a bright and happy place," said Ellen, gravely, +"where there is no darkness, nor sorrow, nor death, neither +pain nor crying; and my mother is there, and my dear Alice, +and my Saviour is there; and I hope I shall be there too." + +"You are shedding tears now, Ellen." + +"And if I am, Sir, it is not because I am unhappy. It doesn't +make me unhappy to think of these things it makes me glad; +and the more I think of them the happier I am." + +"You are a strange child. I am afraid your grandmother is +right, and that you are hurting yourself with poring over +serious matters that you are too young for." + +"She would not think so if she knew," said Ellen, sighing. "I +should not be happy at all without that, and you would not +love me half so well, nor she either. Oh, father!" she +exclaimed, pressing his hand in both her own, and laying her +face upon it, "do not let me be hindered in that! forbid me +anything you please, but not that! the better I learn to +please my best Friend, the better I shall please you." + +"Whom do you mean by 'your best friend?' " + +"The Lord, my Redeemer." + +"Where did you get these notions?" said Mr. Lindsay, after a +short pause. + +"From my mother, first, Sir." + +"She had none of them when I knew her." + +"She had afterwards, then, Sir; and oh!" Ellen hesitated +"I wish everybody had them too!" + +"My little daughter," said Mr. Lindsay affectionately kissing +the cheeks and eyes which were moist again, "I shall indulge +you in this matter. But you must keep your brow clear, or I +shall revoke my grant. And you belong to me now; and there are +some things I want you to forget, and not remember you +understand? Now, don't sing songs to the moon any more to- +night. Good night, my daughter." + +"They think religion is a strange melancholy thing," said +Ellen to herself as she went to bed; "I must not give them +reason to think so I must let my rushlight burn bright I +must take care I never had more need!" + +And with an earnest prayer for help to do so, she laid her +head on the pillow. + +Mr. Lindsay told his mother he had made up his mind to let +Ellen have her way for a while, and begged that she might +return to her old room and hours again. Mrs. Lindsay would not +hear of it. Ellen had disobeyed her orders, she said; she must +take the consequence. + +"She is a bold little hussy, to venture it," said Mr. Lindsay, +"but I do not think there is any naughtiness in her heart." + +"No, not a bit. I could not be angry with her. It is only +those preposterous notions she has got from somebody or +other." + +Mr. Lindsay said no more. Next morning he asked Ellen +privately what she did the first thing after breakfast. + +"Practise on the piano for an hour," she said. + +"Couldn't you do it at any other time?" + +"Yes, Sir, I could practise in the afternoon, only grandmother +likes to have me with her." + +"Let it be done then, Ellen, in future." + +"And what shall I do with the hour after breakfast, Sir?" + +"Whatever you please," said he, smiling. + +Ellen thanked him in the way she knew he best liked, and +gratefully resolved he should have as little cause as possible +to complain of her. Very little cause indeed did he or any one +else have. No fault could be found with her performance of +duty; and her cheerfulness was constant and unvarying. She +remembered her brother's recipe against loneliness, and made +use of it; she remembered Mrs. Allen's advice, and followed +it; she grasped the promises, "He that cometh to me shall +never hunger," and "Seek and ye shall find" precious words +that never yet disappointed any one; and though tears might +often fall that nobody knew of, and she might not be so merry +as her friends would have liked to see her; though her +cheerfulness was touched with sobriety, they could not +complain, for her brow was always unruffled, her voice clear, +her smile ready. + +After a while she was restored to her own sleeping room again, +and permitted to take up her former habits. + + +CHAPTER LI. + +Trials within. + + +Though nothing could be smoother than the general course of +her life, Ellen's principles were still now and then severely +tried. + +Of all in the house, next to Mr. Lindsay, she liked the +company of the old housekeeper best. She was a simple-minded +Christian, a most benevolent and kind-hearted, and withal +sensible and respectable person; devotedly attached to the +family, and very fond of Ellen in particular. Ellen loved, +when she could, to get alone with her, and hear her talk of +her mother's young days: and she loved furthermore, and almost +as much, to talk to Mrs. Allen of her own. Ellen could to no +one else lisp a word on the subject; and without dwelling +directly on those that she loved, she delighted to tell over +to an interested listener the things she had done, seen, and +felt, with them. + +"I wish that child was a little more like other people," said +Lady Keith, one evening in the latter end of the winter. + +"Humph!" said Mr. Lindsay, "I don't remember at this moment +any one that I think she could resemble without losing more +than she gained." + +"Oh, it's of no use to talk to you about Ellen, brother! You +can take up things fast enough when you find them out, but you +never will see with other people's eyes." + +"What do your eyes see, Catherine?" + +"She is altogether too childish for her years; she is really a +baby." + +"I don't know," said Mr. Lindsay, smiling: "you should ask M. +Muller about that. He was holding forth to me for a quarter of +an hour the other day, and could not stint in her praises. She +will go on, he says, just as fast as he pleases to take her." + +"Oh, yes, in intelligence and so on, I know she is not +wanting; that is not what I mean." + +"She is perfectly lady-like always," said Mrs. Lindsay. + +"Yes, I know that, and perfectly child-like too." + +"I like that," said Mr. Lindsay: "I have no fancy for your +grown-up little girls." + +"Well," said Lady Keith, in despair, "you may like it; but I +tell you she is too much of a child, nevertheless, in other +ways. She hasn't an idea of a thousand things. It was only the +other day she was setting out to go, at mid-day, through the +streets, with a basket on her arm some of that fruit for M. +Muller, I believe." + +"If she has any fault," said Mr. Lindsay, "it is want of pride + but I don't know I can't say I wish she had more of it." + +"Oh, no, of course! I suppose not. And it doesn't take +anything at all to make the tears come in her eyes; the other +day I didn't know whether to laugh or be vexed at the way she +went on with a kitten, for half an hour or more. I wish you +had seen her! I am not sure she didn't cry over that. Now I +suppose the next thing, brother, you will go and make her a +present of one." + +"If you have no heavier charges to bring," said Mr. Lindsay, +smiling, "I'll take breath and think about it." + +"But she isn't like anybody else she don't care for young +companions she don't seem to fancy any one out of the family +unless it is old Mrs. Allen, and she is absurd about her. You +know she is not very well lately, and Ellen goes to see her, I +know, every day regularly; and there are the Gordons, and +Carpenters, and Murrays, and M'Intoshes she sees them +continually, but I don't think she takes a great deal of +pleasure in their company. The fact is, she is too sober." + +"She has as sweet a smile as I ever saw," said Mr. Lindsay, +"and as hearty a laugh, when she does laugh; she is none of +your gigglers." + +"But when she does laugh," said Lady Keith, "it is not when +other people do. I think she is generally grave when there is +most merriment around her." + +"I love to hear her laugh," said Mrs. Lindsay; "it is in such +a low, sweet tone, and seems to come so from the very spring +of enjoyment. Yet, I must say, I think Catherine is half +right." + +"With half an advocate," said Lady Keith, "I shall not effect +much." + +Mr. Lindsay uttered a low whistle. At this moment the door +opened, and Ellen came gravely in, with a book in her hand. + +"Come here, Ellen," said Mr. Lindsay holding out his hand +"here's your aunt says you don't like anybody how is it? are +you of an unsociable disposition?" + +Ellen's smile would have been a sufficient apology to him for +a much graver fault. + +"Anybody out of the house, I meant," said Lady Keith. + +"Speak, Ellen, and clear yourself," said Mr. Lindsay. + +"I like some people," said Ellen, smiling; "I don't think I +like a great many people very much." + +"But you don't like young people," said Lady Keith "that is +what I complain of; and it's unnatural. Now there's the other +day, when you went to ride with Miss Gordon and her brother, +and Miss M'Pherson and her brother I heard you say you were +not sorry to get home. Now, where will you find pleasanter +young people?" + +"Why don't you like them, Ellen?" said Mrs. Lindsay. + +"I do like them, Ma'am, tolerably." + +"What does 'tolerably' mean?" + +"I should have liked my ride better the other day," said +Ellen, "if they had talked about sensible things." + +"Nonsense!" said Lady Keith. "Society cannot be made up of M. +Mullers." + +"What did they talk about, Ellen?" said Mr. Lindsay, who +seemed amused. + +"About partners in dancing at least the ladies did and +dresses, and different gentlemen, and what this one said and +the other one said it wasn't very amusing to me." + +Mr. Lindsay laughed. "And the gentlemen, Ellen; how did you +like them?" + +"I didn't like them particularly, Sir." + +"What have you against _them_, Ellen?" + +"I don't wish to say anything against them, Aunt Keith." + +"Come, come; speak out." + +"I didn't like their talking, Sir, any better than the ladies, +and besides that, I don't think they are very polite." + +"Why not?" said Mr. Lindsay, highly amused. + +"I don't think it was very polite," said Ellen, "for them to +sit still on their horses when I went out, and let Brocklesby +help me to mount. They took me up at M. Muller's, you know, +Sir; M. Muller had been obliged to go out and leave me." + +Mr. Lindsay threw a glance at his sister, which she rather +resented. + +"And pray what do you expect, Ellen?" said she. "You are a +mere child; do you think you ought to be treated as a woman?" + +"I don't wish to be treated as anything but a child, Aunt +Keith." + +But Ellen remembered well one day at home when John had been +before the door on horseback, and she had run out to give him +a message, his instantly dismounting to hear it. "And I was +more a child then," she thought; "and he wasn't a stranger." + +"Whom _do_ you like, Ellen?" inquired Mr. Lindsay, who looked +extremely satisfied with the result of the examination. + +"I like M. Muller, Sir." + +"Nobody else?" + +"Mrs. Allen." + +"There!" exclaimed Lady Keith. + +"Have you come from her room just now?" + +"Yes, Sir." + +"What's your fancy for going there?" + +"I like to hear her talk Sir, and to read to her; it gives her +a great deal of pleasure; and I like to talk to her." + +"What do you talk about?" + +"She talks to me about my mother " + +"And you?" + +"I like to talk to her about old times," said Ellen, changing +colour. + +"Profitable conversation!" said Mrs. Lindsay. + +"You will not go to her room any more, Ellen," said Mr. +Lindsay. + +In great dismay at what Mrs. Allen would think, Ellen began a +remonstrance. But only one word was uttered; Mr. Lindsay's +hand was upon her lips. He next took the book she still held. + +"Is this what you have been reading to her?" + +Ellen bowed in answer. + +"Who wrote all this?" + +Before she could speak, he had turned to the front leaf, and +read, "To my little sister." He quietly put the book in his +pocket, and Ellen as quietly left the room. + +"I am glad you have said that," said Lady Keith. "You are +quick enough when you see anything for yourself, but you never +will believe other people." + +"There is nothing wrong here," said Mr. Lindsay; "only I will +not have her going to those old recollections she is so fond +of. I wish I could make her drink Lethe!" + +"What is the book?" said Mrs. Lindsay. + +"I hardly know," said he, turning it over; "except it is from +that person that seems to have obtained such an ascendency +over her it is full of his notes it is a religious work." + +"She reads a great deal too much of that sort of thing," said +Mrs. Lindsay. "I wish you would contrive to put a stop to it. +You can do it better than any one else; she is very fond of +you." + +That was not a good argument. Mr. Lindsay was silent; his +thoughts went back to the conversation held that evening in +Ellen's room, and to certain other things; and perhaps he was +thinking that if religion had much to do with making her what +she was, it was a tree that bore good fruits. + +"I think," said Lady Keith, "that is one reason why she takes +so little to the young people she sees. I have seen her sit +perfectly grave when they were all laughing and talking around +her it really looks singular I don't like it I presume +she would have thought it wicked to laugh with them. And the +other night I missed her from the younger part of the company, +where she should have been, and there she was in the other +room with M. Muller and somebody else,gravely listening to +their conversation!" + +"I saw her," said Mr. Lindsay, smiling; "and she looked +anything but dull or sober. I would rather have her gravity, +after all, Catherine, than anybody else's merriment I know." + +"I wish she had never been detained in America after the time +when she should have come to us," said Mrs. Lindsay. + +"I wish the woman had what she deserves that kept back the +letters!" said Mr. Lindsay. + +"Yes, indeed!" said his sister; "and I have been in continual +fear of a visit from that very person that you say gave Ellen +the book." + +"He isn't here!" said Mr. Lindsay. + +"I don't know where he is; but he was on this side of the +water, at the time Ellen came on; so she told me." + +"I wish he was in Egypt!" + +"I don't intend he shall see her if he comes," said Lady +Keith, "if I can possibly prevent it. I gave Porterfield +orders, if any one asked for her, to tell _me_ immediately, and +not _her_ upon any account; but nobody has come hitherto, and I +am in hopes none will." + +Mr. Lindsay arose, and walked up and down the room with folded +arms, in a very thoughtful style. + +Ellen, with some difficulty, bore herself as usual throughout +the next day and evening, though constantly on the rack to get +possession of her book again. It was not spoken of nor hinted +at. When another morning came she could stand it no longer; +she went, soon after breakfast, into Mr. Lindsay's study, +where he was writing. Ellen came behind him, and, laying both +her arms over his shoulders, said in his ear + +"Will you let me have my book again, father?" + +A kiss was her only answer. Ellen waited. + +"Go to the bookcases," said Mr. Lindsay, presently, "or to the +book-store, and choose out anything you like, Ellen, instead." + +"I wouldn't exchange it for all that is in them!" she answered +with some warmth, and with the husky feeling coming in her +throat. Mr. Lindsay said nothing. + +"At any rate," whispered Ellen, after a minute, "you will not +destroy it, or do anything to it? you will take care of it, +and let me have it again, won't you, Sir?" + +"I will try to take care of you, my daughter." + +Again Ellen paused, and then came round in front of him to +plead to more purpose. + +"I will do anything in the world for you, Sir," she said, +earnestly, "if you will give me my book again." + +"You must do anything in the world for me," said he, smiling, +and pinching her cheek, "without that." + +"But it is mine!" Ellen ventured to urge, though trembling. + +"Come, come!" said Mr. Lindsay, his tone changing, "and you +are mine, you must understand." + +Ellen stood silent, struggling between the alternate surgings +of passion and checks of prudence and conscience. But at last +the wave rolled too high, and broke. Clasping her hands to her +face, she exclaimed, not indeed violently, but with sufficient +energy of expression, "Oh, it's not right! it's not right!" + +"Go to your room, and consider of that," said Mr. Lindsay. "I +do not wish to see you again to-day, Ellen." + +Ellen was wretched. Not from grief at her loss merely; that +she could have borne; that had not even the greatest share in +her distress; she was at war with herself. Her mind was in a +perfect turmoil. She had been a passionate child in earlier +days; under religion's happy reign, that had long ceased to be +true of her; it was only very rarely that she, or those around +her, were led to remember or suspect that it had once been the +case. She was surprised, and half frightened at herself now, +to find the strength of the old temper suddenly roused. She +was utterly and exceedingly out of humour with Mr. Lindsay, +and with everybody and everything else; consequently, +conscience would not give her a moment's peace! and that day +was a long and bitter fight betwixt right and wrong. Duties +were neglected, because she could not give her mind to them; +then they crowded upon her notice at undue times; all was +miserable confusion. In vain she would try to reason and +school herself into right feeling; at one thought of her lost +treasure, passion would come flooding up, and drown all her +reasonings and endeavours. She grew absolutely weary. + +But the day passed, and the night came, and she went to bed +without being able to make up her mind, and she arose in the +morning to renew the battle. + +"How long is this miserable condition to last?" she said to +herself. "Till you can entirely give up your feeling of +resentment, and apologize to Mr. Lindsay," said conscience. +"Apologize! but I haven't done wrong." "Yes, you have," said +conscience, "you spoke improperly; he is just displeased; and +you must make an apology before there can be any peace." "But +I said the truth it is _not_ right! it is not right it is +wrong; and am _I_ to go and make an apology! I can't do it." +"Yes, for the wrong you have done," said conscience, "that is +all your concern. And he has a right to do what he pleases +with you and yours, and he may have his own reasons for what +he has done; and he loves you very much, and you ought not to +let him remain displeased with you one moment longer than you +can help; he is in the place of a father to you, and you owe +him a child's duty." + +But pride and passion still fought against reason and +conscience, and Ellen was miserable. The dressing-bell rang. + +"There! I shall have to go down to breakfast directly, and +they will see how I look they will see I am angry and ill- +humoured. Well, I _ought_ to be angry! But what will they think, +then, of my religion? Is my rushlight burning bright? Am I +honouring Christ now? Is _this_ the way to make his name and his +truth lovely in their eyes? Oh, shame! shame! I have enough to +humble myself for. And all yesterday, at any rate, they know I +was angry." + +Ellen threw herself upon her knees, and when she rose up, the +spirit of pride was entirely broken, and resentment had died +with self-justification. + +The breakfast-bell rang before she was quite ready. She was +afraid she could not see Mr. Lindsay until he should be at the +table. "But it shall make no difference," she said to herself, +"they know I have offended him it is right they should hear +what I have to say." + +They were all at the table. But it made no difference. Ellen +went straight to Mr. Lindsay, and laying one hand timidly in +his, and the other on his shoulder, she at once humbly and +frankly confessed that she had spoken as she ought not the day +before, and that she was very sorry she had displeased him, +and begged his forgiveness. It was instantly granted. + +"You are a good child, Ellen," said Mr. Lindsay as he fondly +embraced her. + +"Oh no, Sir! don't call me so; I am everything in the world +but that." + +"Then all the rest of the world are good children. Why didn't +you come to me before?" + +"Because I couldn't, Sir; I felt wrong all day yesterday." + +Mr. Lindsay laughed, and kissed her, and bade her sit down and +eat her breakfast. + +It was about a month after this that he made her a present of +a beautiful little watch. Ellen's first look was of great +delight; the second was one of curious doubtful expression, +directed to his face, half tendering the watch back to him, as +she saw that he understood her. + +"Why," said he, smiling, "do you mean to say you would rather +have that than this?" + +"A great deal." + +"No," said he, hanging the watch round her neck, "you shall +not have it; but you may make your mind easy, for I have it +safe, and it shall come back to you again some time or other." + +With this promise Ellen was obliged to be satisfied. + +The summer passed in the enjoyment of all that wealth of purse +and of affection both could bestow upon their darling. Early +in the season the family returned to "the Braes." Ellen liked +it there much better than in the city; there was more that +reminded her of old times. The sky and the land, though +different from those she best loved, were yet but another +expression of nature's face; it was the same face still; and +on many a sunbeam Ellen travelled across the Atlantic.* [* +"Then by a sunbeam I will climb to thee." GEORGE HERBERT.] +She was sorry to lose M. Muller, but she could not have kept +him in Edinburgh; he quitted Scotland about that time. + +Other masters attended her in the country, or she went to +Edinburgh to attend them. Mr. Lindsay liked that very well; he +was often there himself, and after her lesson he loved to have +her with him in the library, and at dinner, and during the +drive home. Ellen liked it, because it was so pleasant to him; +and besides, there was a variety about it, and the drives were +always her delight, and she chose his company at any time +rather than that of her aunt and grandmother. So, many a happy +day, that summer, had she and Mr. Lindsay together, and many +an odd pleasure, in the course of them, did he find or make +for her. Sometimes it was a new book, sometimes a new sight, +sometimes a new trinket. According to his promise, he had +purchased her a fine horse, and almost daily Ellen was upon +his back, and, with Mr. Lindsay, in the course of the summer, +scoured the country, far and near. Every scene of any historic +interest, within a good distance of "the Braes," was visited, +and some of them again and again. Pleasures of all kinds were +at Ellen's disposal; and to her father and grandmother she was +truly the light of the eyes. + +And Ellen was happy; but it was not all these things, nor even +her affection for Mr. Lindsay, that made her so. He saw her +calm, sunshiny face, and busy happy demeanour, and fancied, +though he had sometimes doubts about it, that she did not +trouble herself much with old recollections, or would, in +time, get over them. It was not so. Ellen never forgot; and +sometimes, when she seemed busiest and happiest, it was the +thought of an absent and distant friend that was nerving her +energies, and giving colour to her cheek. Still, as at first, +it was in her hour alone that Ellen laid down care and took up +submission; it was that calmed her brow and brightened her +smile. And though now and then she shed bitter tears, and +repeated her despairing exclamation, "Well! I will see him in +heaven!" in general she lived on hope, and kept at the bottom +of her heart some of her old feeling of confidence. + +Perhaps her brow grew somewhat meeker, and her smile less +bright, as the year rolled on. Months flew by, and brought her +no letters. Ellen marvelled and sorrowed in vain. One day, +mourning over it to Mrs. Allen, the good housekeeper asked her +if her friends knew her address? Ellen at first said, "to be +sure," but after a few minutes' reflection, was obliged to +confess that she was not certain about it. It would have been +just like Mr. Humphreys to lose sight entirely of such a +matter, and very natural for her, in her grief and confusion +of mind, and inexperience, to be equally forgetful. She wrote +immediately to Mr. Humphreys and supplied the defect, and hope +brightened again. Once before she had written, on the occasion +of the refunding her expenses. Mr. Lindsay and his mother were +very prompt to do this, though Ellen could not tell what the +exact amount might be; they took care to be on the safe side, +and sent more than enough. Ellen's mind had changed since she +came to Scotland; she was sorry to have the money go; she +understood the feeling with which it was sent, and it hurt +her. + +Two or three months after the date of her last letter, she +received at length one from Mr. Humphreys, a long, very kind, +and very wise one. She lived upon it for a good while. Mr. +Lindsay's bills were returned. Mr. Humphreys declined utterly +to accept them, telling Ellen that he looked upon her as his +own child up to the time that her friends took her out of his +hands, and that he owed her more than she owed him. Ellen gave +the money, she dared not give the whole message, to Mr. +Lindsay. The bills were instantly and haughtily re-enclosed +and sent back to America. + +Still nothing was heard from Mr. John; Ellen wondered, waited, +wept; sadly quieted herself into submission, and as time went +on, clung faster and faster to her Bible, and the refuge she +found there. + + +CHAPTER LII. + +"Thou!" + + +One evening, it was New Year's eve, a large party was expected +at Mr. Lindsay's. Ellen was not of an age to go abroad to +parties, but at home her father and grandmother never could +bear to do without her when they had company. Generally Ellen +liked it very much; not called upon to take any active part +herself, she had leisure to observe and enjoy in quiet; and +often heard music, and often by Mr. Lindsay's side listened to +conversation in which she took great pleasure. To-night, +however, it happened that Ellen's thoughts were running on +other things; and Mrs. Lindsay's woman, who had come in to +dress her, was not at all satisfied with her grave looks, and +the little concern she seemed to take in what was going on. + +"I wish, Miss Ellen, you'd please hold your head up, and look +somewhere; I don't know when I'll get your hair done if you +keep it down so." + +"Oh, Mason, I think that'll do; it looks very well; you +needn't do anything more." + +"I beg your pardon, Miss Ellen; but you know it's your +grandmother that must be satisfied, and she will have it just +so; there, now that's going to look lovely; but, indeed, Miss +Ellen, she won't be pleased if you carry such a soberish face +downstairs and what will the master say! Most young ladies +would be as bright as a bee at being going to see so many +people; and, indeed, it's what you should." + +"I had rather see one or two persons than one or two hundred," +said Ellen, speaking half to herself and half to Mrs. Mason. + +"Well, for pity's sake, Miss Ellen, dear, if you can, don't +look as if it was a funeral! There! 't ain't much trouble to +fix you, anyhow; if you'd only care a little more about it, it +would be a blessing. Stop till I fix this lace. The master +will call you his white rosebud to-night, sure enough." + +"That's nothing new," said Ellen, half-smiling. + +Mason left her; and feeling the want of something to raise her +spirits, Ellen sorrowfully went to her Bible, and slowly +turning it over, looked along its pages to catch a sight of +something cheering before she went downstairs. + + +"_This God is our God for ever and ever: he will be our guide +even unto death_." + + +"Isn't that enough?" thought Ellen, as her eyes filled in +answer. "It ought to be John would say it was Oh! where is +he?" + +She went on, turning leaf after leaf. + + +"_O Lord of hosts, blessed is the man that trusteth in thee!_" + + +"That is true, surely," she thought. "And I do trust in him +I am blessed, I am happy, come what may. He will let nothing +come to those that trust in him but what is good for them; if +he is my God, I have enough to make me happy I ought to be +happy I will be happy! I will trust him, and take what he +gives me, and try to leave, as John used to tell me, my +affairs in his hand." + +For a minute tears flowed; then they were wiped away; and the +smile she gave Mr. Lindsay when she met him in the hall, was +not less bright than usual. + +The company were gathered, but it was still early in the +evening when a gentleman came, who declined to enter the +drawing-room, and asked for Miss Lindsay. + +"Miss Lindsay is engaged." + +"An' what for suld ye say sae, Mr. Porterfield?" cried the +voice of the housekeeper, who was passing in the hall, "when +ye ken as weel as I do that Miss Ellen " + +The butler stopped her with saying something about "my lady," +and repeated his answer to the gentleman. + +The latter wrote a word or two on a card which he drew from +his pocket, and desired him to carry it to Miss Ellen. He +carried it to Lady Keith. + +"What sort of a person, Porterfield?" said Lady Keith, +crumpling the paper in her fingers; and withdrawing a little +from the company. + +"Uncommon fine gentleman, my lady," Porterfield answered in a +low tone. + +"A gentleman?" said Lady Keith, inquiringly. + +"Certain, my lady! and as up and down spoken as if he was a +prince of the blood; he's somebody that is not accustomed to +be said 'no' to for sure." + +Lady Keith hesitated. Recollecting, however, that she had just +left Ellen safe in the music-room, she made up her mind, and +desired Porterfield to show the stranger in. As he entered, +unannounced, her eyes unwillingly verified the butler's +judgment; and to the inquiry whether he might see Miss +Lindsay, she answered very politely, though with regrets, that +Miss Lindsay was engaged. + +"May I be pardoned for asking," said the stranger, with the +slightest possible approach to a smile, "whether that decision +is imperative? I leave Scotland to-morrow my reasons for +wishing to see Miss Lindsay this evening are urgent." + +Lady Keith could hardly believe her ears, or command her +countenance to keep company with her expressions of "sorrow +that it was impossible Miss Lindsay could not have the +pleasure that evening." + +"May I beg, then, to know at what hour I may hope to see her +to-morrow?" + +Hastily resolving that Ellen should on the morrow accept a +long-given invitation, Lady Keith answered that "she would not +be in town she would leave Edinburgh at an early hour." + +The stranger bowed and withdrew; that was all the bystanders +saw. But Lady Keith, who had winced under an eye that she +could not help fancying read her too well, saw that in his +parting look which made her uneasy; beckoning a servant who +stood near, she ordered him to wait upon that gentleman to the +door. + +The man obeyed; but the stranger did not take his cloak, and +made no motion to go. + +"No, Sir! not that way," he said, sternly, as the servant laid +his hand on the lock; "show me to Miss Lindsay!" + +"Miss Ellen!" said the man, doubtfully, coming back, and +thinking from the gentleman's manner that he must have +misunderstood Lady Keith; "where is Miss Ellen, Arthur?" + +The person addressed threw his head back towards the door he +had just come from on the other side of the hall. + +"This way, Sir, if you please; what name, Sir?" + +"No name; stand back!" said the stranger as he entered. + +There were a number of people gathered round a lady who was at +the piano singing. Ellen was there in the midst of them. The +gentleman advanced quietly to the edge of the group, and stood +there without being noticed; Ellen's eyes were bent on the +floor. The expression of her face touched and pleased him +greatly; it was precisely what he wished to see. Without +having the least shadow of sorrow upon it, there was in all +its lines that singular mixture of gravity and sweetness that +is never seen but where religion and discipline have done +their work well; the writing of the wisdom that looks soberly, +and the love that looks kindly, on all things. He was not sure +at first whether she were intently listening to the music, or +whether her mind was upon something far different and far +away; he thought the latter. He was right. Ellen at the moment +had escaped from the company and the noisy sounds of the +performer at her side; and while her eye was curiously tracing +out the pattern of the carpet, her mind was resting itself in +one of the verses she had been reading that same evening. +Suddenly, and as it seemed, from no connection with anything +in or out of her thoughts, there came to her mind the image of +John as she had seen him that first evening she ever saw him +at Carra-carra, when she looked up from the boiling chocolate +and espied him, standing in an attitude of waiting near the +door. Ellen at first wondered how that thought should have +come into her head just then; the next moment, from a sudden +impulse, she raised her eyes to search for the cause, and saw +John's smile. + +It would not be easy to describe the change in Ellen's face. +Lightning makes as quick and as brilliant an illumination, but +lightning does not stay. With a spring she reached him, and +seizing both his hands, drew him out of the door near which +they were standing; and as soon as they were hidden from view, +threw herself into his arms in an agony of joy. Before, +however, either of them could say a word, she had caught his +hand again, and led him back along the hall to the private +staircase; she mounted it rapidly to _her room_, and there again +she threw herself into his arms, exclaiming, "O John! my dear +John! my dear brother!" + +But neither smiles nor words would do for the overcharged +heart. The tide of joy ran too strong, and too much swelled +from the open sources of love and memory, to keep any bounds. +And it kept none. Ellen sat down, and bowing her head on the +arm of the sofa, wept with all the vehement passion of her +childhood, quivering from head to foot with convulsive sobs. +John might guess, from the outpouring now, how much her heart +had been secretly gathering for months past. For a little +while he walked up and down the room; but this excessive +agitation he was not willing should continue. He said nothing; +sitting down beside Ellen on the sofa, he quietly possessed +himself of one of her hands, and when in her excitement the +hand struggled to get away again, it was not permitted. Ellen +understood that very well, and immediately checked herself. +Better than words, the calm firm grasp of his hand quieted +her. Her sobbing stilled; she turned from the arm of the sofa, +and leaning her head upon him, took his hand in both hers and +pressed it to her lips, as if she were half beside herself. +But that was not permitted to last either, for his hand +quickly imprisoned hers again. There was silence still. Ellen +could not look up yet, and neither seemed very forward to +speak: she sat gradually quieting down into fulness of +happiness. + +"I thought you never would come, John," at length Ellen half +whispered, half said. + +"And I cannot stay now. I must leave you to-morrow, Ellen." + +Ellen started up, and looked up now. + +"Leave me! For how long? Where are you going?" + +"Home." + +"To America!" Ellen's heart died within her. Was _this_ the end +of all her hopes? did her confidence end _here?_ She shed no +tears now. He could see that she grew absolutely still from +intense feeling. + +"What's the matter, Ellie?" said the low gentle tones she so +well remembered; "I am leaving you but for a time. I _must_ go +home now, but if I live you will see me again." + +"Oh, I wish I was going with you!" Ellen exclaimed, bursting +into tears. + +"My dear Ellie!" said her brother, in an altered voice, +drawing her again to his arms; "you cannot wish it more than +I!" + +"I never thought you would leave me here, John." + +"Neither would I, if I could help it; neither will I a minute +longer than I can help; but we must both wait, my own Ellie. +Do not cry so, for my sake!" + +"Wait? till when?" said Ellen, not a little reassured. + +"I have no power now to remove you from your legal guardians, +and you have no right to choose for yourself." + +"And when shall I?" + +"In a few years." + +"A few years! But in the mean time, John, what shall I do +without you? If I could see you once in a while but there is +no one here not a single one to help me to keep right; no +one talks to me as you used to; and I am all the while afraid +I shall go wrong in something; what shall I do?" + +"What the weak must always do, Ellie; seek for strength where +it may be had." + +"And so I do, John," said Ellen, weeping; "but I want you; oh, +how much!" + +"Are you not happy here?" + +"Yes, I am happy; at least I thought I was half an hour ago +as happy as I can be. I have everything to make me happy, +except what would do it." + +"We must both have recourse to our old remedy against sorrow +and loneliness; you have not forgotten the use of it, Ellie?" + +"No, John," said Ellen, meeting his eyes with a tearful smile. + +"They love you here, do they not?" + +"Very much too much." + +"And you love them?" + +"Yes." + +"That's a doubtful 'yes.' " + +"I do love my father very much; and my grandmother too, +though not so much. I cannot help loving them;they love me so. +But they are so unlike you!" + +"That is not much to the purpose, after all," said John, +smiling. "These are varieties of excellence in the world." + +"Oh yes, but that isn't what I mean; it isn't a variety of +excellence. They make me do everything that they have a mind +I don't mean," she added, smiling, "that _that_ is not like you + but you always had a reason; they are different. My father +makes me drink wine every now and then I don't like to do +it, and he knows I do not, and I think that is the reason I +have to do it." + +"That's not a matter of great importance, Ellie, provided they +do not make you do something wrong." + +"They could not do that, I hope: and there is another thing +they cannot make me do." + +"What is that?" + +"Stay here when you will take me away." + +There was a few minutes' thoughtful pause on both sides. + +"You are grown, Ellie," said John; "you are not the child I +left you." + +"I don't know," said Ellen smiling; "it seems to me I am just +the same." + +"Let me see look at me." + +She raised her face, and, amidst smiles and tears, its look +was not less clear and frank than his was penetrating. "Just +the same," was the verdict of her brother's eyes a moment +afterwards. Ellen's smile grew bright as she read it there. + +"Why have you never come or written before, John?" + +"I did not know where you were. I have not been in England for +many months till quite lately, and I could not get your +address. I think my father was without it for a long time, and +when at last he sent it to me, the letter miscarried never +reached me there were delays upon delays." + +"And when did you get it?" + +"I preferred coming to writing." + +"And now you must go home so soon!" + +"I must, Ellie. My business has lingered on a great while, and +it is quite time I should return. I expect to sail next week. +Mrs. Gillespie is going with me; her husband stays behind till +spring." + +Ellen signed. + +"I made a friend of a friend of yours whom I met in +Switzerland last summer M. Muller." + +"M. Muller! did you! Oh, I am very glad! I am very glad you +know him he is the best friend I have got here, after my +father. I don't know what I should have done without him." + +"I have heard him talk of you," said John, smiling. + +"He has just come back; he was to be here this evening." + +There was a pause again. + +"It does not seem right to go home without you, Ellie," said +her brother, then. "I think you belong to me more than to +anybody." + +"That is exactly what I think!" said Ellen, with one of her +bright looks, and then bursting into tears; "I am very glad +you think so too! I will always do whatever you tell me just +as I used to no matter what anybody else says." + +"Perhaps I shall try you in two or three things, Ellie." + +"Will you! in what? Oh, it would make me so happy so much +happier if I could be doing something to please you. I wish +I was at home with you again!" + +"I will bring that about, Ellie, by-and-by, if you make your +words good." + +"I shall be happy then," said Ellen, her old confidence +standing stronger than ever, "because I know you will if you +say so; though how you will manage I cannot conceive. My +father, and grandmother, and aunt cannot bear to hear me speak +of America; I believe they would be glad if there wasn't such +a place in the world. They would not even let me think of it +if they could help it; I never dare mention your name, or say +a word about old times. They are afraid of my loving anybody, +I believe. They want to have me all to themselves." + +"What will they say to you then, Ellen, if you leave them to +give yourself to me?" + +"I cannot help it," replied Ellen; "they must say what they +please;" and with abundance of energy, and not a few tears, +she went on: "I love them, but I have given myself to you a +great while ago; long before I was his daughter, you called me +your little sister I can't unto that, John, and I don't want +to it doesn't make a bit of difference that we were not born +so!" + +John suddenly rose, and began to walk up and down the room. +Ellen soon came to his side, and leaning upon his arm as she +had been used to do in past times, walked up and down with +him, at first silently. + +"What is it you wanted me to do, John?" she said, gently, at +length; "you said 'two or three things.' " + +"One is that you keep up a regular and full correspondence +with me." + +"I am very glad that you will let me do that," said Ellen; +"that is exactly what I should like, but " + +"What?" + +"I am afraid they will not let me." + +"I will arrange that." + +"Very well," said Ellen, joyously, "then it will do. Oh, it +would make me so happy! And you will write to me?" + +"Certainly." + +"And I will tell you everything about myself; and you will +tell me how I ought to do in all sorts of things? that will be +next best to being with you. And then you will keep me right." + +"I won't promise you that, Ellie," said John, smiling; "you +must learn to keep yourself right." + +"I know you will, though, however you may smile. What next?" + +"Read no novels." + +"I never do, John. I knew you did not like it, and I have +taken good care to keep out of the way of them. If I had told +anybody why, though, they would have made me read a dozen." + +"Why, Ellie!" said her brother, "you must need some care to +keep a straight line where your course lies now." + +"Indeed I do, John," said Ellen, her eyes filling with tears; +"Oh, how I have felt that sometimes! And then, how I wanted +you!" + +Her hand was fondly taken in his, as many a time it had been +of old, and for a long time they paced up and down, the +conversation running sometimes in the strain that both loved, +and Ellen now never heard; sometimes on other matters; such a +conversation as those she had lived upon in former days, and +now drank in with a delight and eagerness inexpressible. Mr. +Lindsay would have been in dismay to have seen her uplifted +face, which, though tears were many a time there, was +sparkling and glowing with life and joy in a manner he had +never known it. She almost forgot what the morrow would bring, +in the exquisite pleasure of the instant, and hung upon every +word and look of her brother, as if her life were there. + +"And in a few weeks," said Ellen at length, "you will be in +our old dear sitting-room again, and riding on the Black +Prince! and I shall be here! and it will be " + +"It will be empty without you, Ellie; but we have a Friend +that is sufficient; let us love him and be patient." + +"It is very hard to be patient," murmured Ellen. "But, dear +John, there was something else you wanted me to do, what is +it? You said 'two or three' things." + +"I will leave that to another time." + +"But why? I will do it, whatever it be pray tell me." + +"No," said he, smiling, "not now; you shall know by-and-by +the time is not yet. Have you heard of your old friend Mr. Van +Brunt?" + +"No what of him?" + +"He has come out before the world as a Christian man." + +"Has he?" + +John took a letter from his pocket and opened it. + +"You may see what my father says of him, and what he says of +you, too, Ellie; he has missed you much." + +"Oh, I was afraid he would," said Ellen; "I was sure he did!" + +She took the letter, but she could not see the words. John +told her she might keep it to read at her leisure. + +"And how are they all at Ventnor? and how is Mrs. Vawse? and +Margery?" + +"All well. Mrs. Vawse spends about half her time at my +father's." + +"I am very glad of that." + +"Mrs. Marshman wrote me to bring you back with me if I could, +and said she had a home for you always at Ventnor." + +"How kind she is," said Ellen; "how many friends I find +everywhere. It seems to me, John, that everybody almost loves +me." + +"That _is_ a singular circumstance! However, I am no exception +to the rule, Ellie." + +"Oh, I know that!" said Ellen, laughing. "And Mr. George?" + +"Mr. George is well." + +"How much I love him!" said Ellen. "How much I would give to +see him. I wish you could tell me about poor Captain and the +Brownie, but I don't suppose you have heard of them. Oh, when +I think of it all at home, how I want to be there! Oh, John! +sometimes lately I have almost thought I should only see you +again in heaven." + +"My dear Ellie! I shall see you there, I trust; but if we live +we shall spend our lives here together first. And while we are +parted, we will keep as near as possible by praying for and +writing to each other. And what God orders, let us quietly +submit to." + +Ellen had much ado to command herself at the tone of these +words and John's manner, as he clasped her in his arms and +kissed her brow and lips. She strove to keep back a show of +feeling that would distress and might displease him. But the +next moment her fluttering spirits were stilled by hearing the +few soft words of a prayer that he breathed over her head. It +was a prayer for her and for himself, and one of its petitions +was, that they might be kept to see each other again. Ellen +wrote the words on her heart. + +"Are you going?" + +He showed his watch. + +"Well, I shall see you to-morrow." + +"Shall you be here?" + +"Certainly, where else should I be? What time must you set +out?" + +"I need not till afternoon, but how early can I see you?" + +"As early as you please. Oh, spend all the time with me you +can, John!" + +So it was arranged. + +"And now, Ellie, you must go downstairs and present me to Mr. +Lindsay." + +"To my father!" + +For a moment Ellen's face was a compound of expressions. She +instantly acquiesced, however, and went down with her brother, +her heart, it must be confessed, going very pit-a-pat indeed. +She took him into the library, which was not this evening +thrown open to company; and sent a servant for Mr. Lindsay. +While waiting for his coming, Ellen felt as if she had not the +fair use of her senses. Was that John Humphreys quietly +walking up and down the library! Mr. Lindsay's library! and +was she about to introduce her brother to the person who had +forbidden her to mention his name? There was something, +however, in Mr. John's figure and air, in his utter coolness, +that insensibly restored her spirits. Triumphant confidence in +him overcame the fear of Mr. Lindsay; and when he appeared, +Ellen, with tolerable composure, met him, her hand upon John's +arm, and said, "Father, this is Mr. Humphreys," _my brother_ +she dared not add. + +"I hope Mr. Lindsay will pardon my giving him this trouble," +said the latter; "we have one thing in common which should +forbid our being strangers to each other. I, at least, was +unwilling to leave Scotland without making myself known to Mr. +Lindsay." + +Mr. Lindsay most devoutly wished the "thing in common" had +been anything else. He bowed, and was "happy to have the +pleasure," but evidently neither pleased nor happy. Ellen +could see that. + +"May I take up five minutes of Mr. Lindsay's time to explain, +perhaps to apologize," said John, slightly smiling, "for what +I have said?" + +A little ashamed, it might be, to have his feeling suspected, +Mr. Lindsay instantly granted the request, and politely +invited his unwelcome guest to be seated. Obeying a glance +from her brother which she understood, Ellen withdrew to the +further side of the room, where she could not hear what they +said. John took up the history of Ellen's acquaintness with +his family, and briefly gave it to Mr. Lindsay, scarce +touching on the benefits by them conferred on her, and +skilfully dwelling rather on Ellen herself, and setting forth +what she had been to them. Mr. Lindsay could not be +unconscious of what his visitor delicately omitted to hint at, +neither could he help making secretly to himself some most +unwilling admissions; and though he might wish the speaker at +the antipodes, and doubtless did, yet the sketch was too +happily given, and his fondness for Ellen too great, for him +not to be delightedly interested in what was said of her. And +however strong might have been his desire to dismiss his guest +in a very summary manner, or to treat him with haughty +reserve, the graceful dignity of Mr. Humphreys' manners made +either expedient impossible. Mr. Lindsay felt constrained to +meet him on his own ground the ground of high-bred +frankness, and grew secretly still more afraid that his real +feelings should be discerned. + +Ellen, from afar, where she could not hear the words, watched +the countenances with great anxiety, and great admiration. She +could see that while her brother spoke with his usual perfect +ease, Mr. Lindsay was embarrassed. She half-read the truth. +She saw the entire politeness where she also saw the secret +discomposure, and she felt that the politeness was forced from +him. As the conversation went on, however, she wonderingly saw +that the cloud on his brow lessened she saw him even smile; +and when at last they rose, and she drew near, she almost +thought her ears were playing her false, when she heard Mr. +Lindsay beg her brother to go in with him to the company, and +be presented to Mrs. Lindsay. After a moment's hesitation this +invitation was accepted, and they went together into the +drawing-room. + +Ellen felt as if she was in a dream. With a face as grave as +usual, but with an inward exultation and rejoicing in her +brother, impossible to describe, she saw him going about among +the company, talking to her grandmother; yes, and her +grandmother did not look less pleasant than usual, recognising +M. Muller, and in conversation with other people whom he knew. +With indescribable glee, Ellen saw that Mr. Lindsay managed +most of the time to be of the same group. Never more than that +night did she triumphantly think that Mr. John could do +anything. He finished the evening there. Ellen took care not +to seem too much occupied with him; but she contrived to be +near when he was talking with M. Muller, and to hang upon her +father's arm when he was in Mr. John's neighbourhood. And when +the latter had taken leave, and was in the hall, Ellen was +there before he could be gone. And there came Mr. Lindsay too, +behind her. + +"You will come early to-morrow morning, John?" + +"Come to breakfast, Mr. Humphreys, will you?" said Mr. +Lindsay, with sufficient cordiality. + +But Mr. Humphreys declined his invitation, in spite of the +timid touch of Ellen's fingers upon his arm, which begged for +a different answer. + +"I will be with you early, Ellie," he said, however. + +"And oh! John," said Ellen, suddenly, "order a horse, and let +us have one ride together; let me show you Edinburgh." + +"By all means," said Mr. Lindsay, "let us show you Edinburgh; +but order no horses, Mr. Humphreys, for mine are at your +service." + +Ellen's other hand was gratefully laid upon her father's arm +as this second proposal was made and accepted. + +"Let us show you Edinburgh," said Ellen to herself, as she and +Mr. Lindsay slowly and gravely went back through the hall. "So +there is an end of my fine morning! But, however, how foolish +I am! John has his own ways of doing things he can make it +pleasant in spite of everything." + +She went to bed, not to sleep indeed, for a long time, but to +cry for joy, and all sorts of feelings at once. + +Good came out of evil, as it often does, and as Ellen's heart +presaged it would when she arose the next morning. The ride +was preceded by half an hour's chat between Mr. John, Mr. +Lindsay, and her grandmother; in which the delight of the +evening before was renewed and confirmed. Ellen was obliged to +look down to hide the too bright satisfaction she felt was +shining in her face. She took no part in the conversation; it +was enough to hear. She sat with charmed ears, seeing her +brother overturning all her father's and grandmother's +prejudices, and making his own way to their respect at least, +in spite of themselves. Her marvelling still almost kept even +pace with her joy. "I knew he would do what he pleased," she +said to herself; "I knew they could not help that; but I did +not dream he would ever make them like him, that I never +dreamed!" + +On the ride, again, Ellen could not wish that her father were +not with them. She wished for nothing; it was all a maze of +pleasure, which there was nothing to mar but the sense that +she would, by-and-by, wake up and find it was a dream. And no + not that either. It was a solid good and blessing, which, +though it must come to an end, she should never lose. For the +present there was hardly anything to be thought of but +enjoyment. She shrewdly guessed that Mr. Lindsay would have +enjoyed it too, but for herself; there was a little constraint +about him still, she could see. There was none about Mr. John; +in the delight of his words, and looks, and presence, Ellen +half the time forgot Mr. Lindsay entirely; she had enough of +them; she did not for one moment wish Mr. Lindsay had less. + +At last the long, beautiful ride came to an end; and the rest +of the morning soon sped away, though, as Ellen had expected, +she was not permitted to spend any part of it alone with her +brother. Mr. Lindsay asked him to dinner, but this was +declined. + +Not till long after he was gone did Ellen read Mr. Humphreys' +letter. One bit of it may be given: + +"Mr. Van Brunt has lately joined our little church. This has +given me great pleasure. He had been a regular attendant for a +long time before. He ascribes much to your instrumentality; +but says his first thoughts (earnest ones) on the subject of +religion, were on the occasion of a tear that fell from +Ellen's eyes upon his hand one day when she was talking to him +about the matter. He never got over the impression. In his own +words, 'it scared him!' That was a dear child! I did not +know how dear till I had lost her. I did not know how severely +I should feel her absence; nor had I the least notion when she +was with us of many things respecting her that I have learnt +since. I half hoped we should yet have her back, but that will +not be. I shall be glad to see you, my son." + +The correspondence with John was begun immediately, and was +the delight of Ellen's life. Mrs. Lindsay and her daughter +wished to put a stop to it; but Mr. Lindsay dryly said that +Mr. Humphreys had frankly spoken of it before him, and as he +made no objection then, he could not now. + +Ellen puzzled herself a little to think what could be the +third thing John wanted of her; but, whatever it were, she was +very sure she would do it! + +For the gratification of those who are never satisfied, one +word shall be added, to wit, that + +The seed so early sown in little Ellen's mind, and so +carefully tended by sundry hands, grew in course of time to +all the fair structure and comely perfection it had bid fair +to reach: storms and winds that had visited it, did but cause +the root to take deeper hold; and at the point of its young +maturity it happily fell again into those hands that had of +all been most successful in its culture. In other words, to +speak intelligibly, Ellen did in no wise disappoint her +brother's wishes, nor he hers. Three or four more years of +Scottish discipline wrought her no ill; they did but serve to +temper and beautify her Christian character; and then, to her +unspeakable joy, she went back to spend her life with the +friends and guardians she best loved, and to be to them, still +more than she had been to her Scottish relations, the "light +of the eyes." + + +THE END. + + + + +PRINTED BY BERNHARD TAUCHNITZ. + + + +Typrographical errors : + +chapter 7 : =look out nearly= silently corrected as =look out +near by= + +chapter 7 : =That is true= silently corrected as ="That is true= + +chapter 7 : =I suppose, said her friend= silently corrected as =I +suppose," said her friend= + +chapter 7 : =great many things= silently corrected as ='great +many things= + +chapter 9 : =sweeping of= silently corrected as =sweeping off= + +chapter 9 : =but whether it would= silently corrected as ="but +whether it would= + +chapter 12 : =little brick wall= silently corrected as =little +brick walk= + +chapter 13 : =Just look, said Ellen= silently corrected as =Just +look," said Ellen= + +chapter 16 : =Humprey's desire= silently corrected as =Humphreys' +desire= + +chapter 17 : =you'd forgot= silently corrected as =you'd forget= + +chapter 17 : =than to receive."= silently corrected as =than to +receive.' "= + +chapter 18 : =well behaved-cow= silently corrected as =well- +behaved cow= + +chapter 18 : =when you yet to= silently corrected as =when you +get to= + +chapter 20 : =shouldn't wan't= silently corrected as =shouldn't +want= + +chapter 22 : =that's seven= silently corrected as +=that's seven"= + +chapter 23 : =my calling to fulfil '= silently corrected as +=my calling to fulfil ' "= + +chapter 27 : =cried little Ellen Chauncey?= silently corrected +as =cried little Ellen Chauncey;= + +Chapter 28 : =we are going to make presents= silently corrected +as ="we are going to make presents= + +Chapter 28 : =I guess I didn't!"= silently corrected as =I guess +I didn't!= + +Chapter 34 : =believed this lately.= silently corrected as +=believed this lately?= + +Chapter 34 : =came to him= silently corrected as =came to him.= + +Chapter 35 : =have the Bible Nancy= silently corrected as =have +the Bible, Nancy= + +Chapter 35 : =however; that was no matter= silently corrected as +=however, that was no matter= + +Chapter 37 : =her pony's neck!= silently corrected as =her pony's +neck,= + +Chapter 37 : =merino at St. Claire= silently corrected as =merino +at St. Clair= + +Chapter 37 : ='he'll be along= silently corrected as ="he'll be +along= + +Chapter 39 : =was runnig over= silently corrected as =was running +over= + +Chapter 39 : =that receiveth it.= silently corrected as =that +receiveth it.'= + +Chapter 39 : =make think look= silently corrected as =make things +look= + +Chapter 43 : =truth and grace.'= silently corrected as =truth and +grace."= + +Chapter 45 : =de moi-mκme!"= silently corrected as =de moi-mκme!' +"= + +Chapter 48 : =chβlet= silently corrected as =chalet= + +Chapter 49 : =rιmarquablement= silently corrected as +=remarquablement= + +Chapter 49 : =rιcommencι= silently corrected as =recommencι= + + + + + + + + + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD*** + + +******* This file should be named 18689-8.txt or 18689-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/8/6/8/18689 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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