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diff --git a/28376-8.txt b/28376-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..455242a --- /dev/null +++ b/28376-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,30272 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Wide, Wide World, by Susan Warner + +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: Susan Warner + +Release Date: March 20, 2009 [EBook #28376] +[Last updated: April 18, 2011] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD *** + + + + +Produced by Mark C. Orton, Júlio Reis, Linda McKeown and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +The Wide, Wide World + + + + + _The_ Wide, Wide World + + _By_ SUSAN WARNER + + [Illustration] + + GROSSET AND DUNLAP + + PUBLISHERS : : NEW YORK + + + + +Contents + + + CHAP. PAGE + + I. BREAKING THE NEWS 9 + + II. GIVES SORROW TO THE WINDS 15 + + III. THE WORTH OF A FINGER-RING 26 + + IV. THE BITTER-SWEET OF LIFE 37 + + V. A PEEP INTO THE WIDE WORLD 43 + + VI. NIGHT AND MORNING 56 + + VII. "STRANGERS WALK AS FRIENDS" 66 + + VIII. LEAVES US IN THE STREET 77 + + IX. THE LITTLE QUEEN IN THE ARM-CHAIR 90 + + X. MUD--AND WHAT CAME OF IT 103 + + XI. RUNNING AWAY WITH THE BROOK 115 + + XII. SPLITTERS 125 + + XIII. HOPE DEFERRED 132 + + XIV. WORK _not_ DEFERRED 139 + + XV. MOTHER EARTH RATHER THAN AUNT FORTUNE 147 + + XVI. COUNSEL, CAKES, AND CAPTAIN PARRY 158 + + XVII. DIFFICULTY OF DOING RIGHT 172 + + XVIII. LOSES CARE ON THE CAT'S BACK 183 + + XIX. SHOWING THAT IN SOME CIRCUMSTANCES WHITE IS BLACK 196 + + XX. HEADSICK AND HEARTSICK 204 + + XXI. FOOTSTEPS OF ANGELS 218 + + XXII. SHOWS HOW MR. VAN BRUNT COULD BE SHARP UPON SOME + THINGS 230 + + XXIII. HOW MISS FORTUNE WENT OUT AND PLEASURE CAME IN 239 + + XXIV. SWEEPING AND DUSTING 246 + + XXV. SHOWING WHAT A NOISE A BEE CAN MAKE WHEN IT GETS + INTO THE HOUSE 255 + + XXVI. SUNDRY THINGS ROUND A POT OF CHOCOLATE 267 + + XXVII. THE JINGLING OF SLEIGH-BELLS 281 + + XXVIII. SCRAPS--OF MOROCCO AND TALK 290 + + XXIX. STOCKINGS, TO WHICH THE "BAS BLEU" WAS NOTHING 300 + + XXX. SUNDAY AT VENTNOR 308 + + XXXI. FLOWERS AND THORNS 317 + + XXXII. THE BANKNOTE AND GEORGE WASHINGTON 329 + + XXXIII. A GATHERING CLOUD IN THE SPRING WEATHER 337 + + XXXIV. THE CLOUD OVERHEAD 345 + + XXXV. THIS "WORKING-DAY WORLD" 357 + + XXXVI. THE BROWNIE 374 + + XXXVII. TIMOTHY AND HIS MASTER 383 + + XXXVIII. WHEREIN THE BLACK PRINCE ARRIVES OPPORTUNELY 395 + + XXXIX. HALCYON DAYS 406 + + XL. "PRODIGIOUS!" 419 + + XLI. "THE CLOUDS RETURN AFTER THE RAIN" 428 + + XLII. ONE LESS IN THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD 438 + + XLIII. THOSE THAT WERE LEFT 448 + + XLIV. THE LITTLE SPIRIT THAT HAUNTED THE BIG HOUSE 458 + + XLV. THE GUARDIAN ANGEL 473 + + XLVI. "SOMETHING TURNS UP" 487 + + XLVII. THE WIDE WORLD GROWN WIDER 502 + + XLVIII. HOW OLD FRIENDS WERE INVESTED WITH THE REGALIA 515 + + XLIX. THOUGHT IS FREE 531 + + L. TRIALS WITHOUT 542 + + LI. TRIALS WITHIN 552 + + LII. "THOU!" 561 + + + + +THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD + + + + +CHAPTER I + + Enjoy the spring of love and youth, + To some good angel leave the rest, + For time will teach thee soon the truth, + "There are no birds in last year's nest." + + --LONGFELLOW. + + +"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 +awhile--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 those 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, 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 awhile 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 ever I +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 along, 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 had 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 teapot 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 quavered 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 + + Not all the whispers that the soft winds utter + Speak earthly things-- + There mingleth there, sometimes, a gentle flutter + Of angels' wings. + + --AMY LATHROP. + + +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 downstairs, 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 as 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'll 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 downstairs. 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 hand 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 round 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 +for ever?" + +"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. Doctor 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 wildgoose 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 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 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 passed through her head that +first morning as she had 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 +the 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 did not 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 in a town?" said Ellen. + +"No; it is not a great way 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 cosy 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 busy 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 feel like asking them for these +things as often as I shall want them, and maybe 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 that journey at present, and it is yet more +impossible for me. There is no help for it, daughter, but we must +entrust 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 last 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 quite 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 + + Sweetheart, we shall be rich ere we depart, + If fairings come thus plentifully in. + + --SHAKESPEARE. + + +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 +downstairs; 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 upstairs 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 unto 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 singularly 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 toward 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 so 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 light 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 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 exceedingly 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 dare say 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 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 ever 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 now know, +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 +everything. 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 everything 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, ma'am, 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 that 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 pen-knives. 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 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 meantime." + +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, indiarubber, 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 joy +fullest 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 & 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 + + How can I live without thee--how forego + Thy sweet converse, and love so dearly joined? + + --MILTON. + + +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 work-box will make +you blush." + +"Work-box, 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 sunk 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 work-box--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 packthread that was wound round the work-box, +and slowly took off cover after cover; she almost screamed when the last +was removed. The box was of satin-wood, 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 deal 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 all be 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 to 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 lift I 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 + + My child is yet a stranger in the world. + She hath not seen the change of fourteen years. + + --SHAKESPEARE. + + +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 a tone of one who is making up her mind to +something, "we shall have a fine day by-and-by, I suppose, if we wait +long enough; we had to wait a great 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 knows nothing at all about shopping +for me; he would be sure to bring me exactly what I do not want. I tried +that once." + +"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 will 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 coloured +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 & 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 exceedingly 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 the 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 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 at 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 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 grey would do," said Ellen, "if it +is fine enough." + +"'Dark blue,' or 'dark brown,' or a 'nice grey,' 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 at 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 grey?" + +He slowly and ill-humouredly complied, and took down an excellent piece +of dark grey, 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 grey 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 quickly 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, toward 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 this 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 grey 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 old 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 crestfallen 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 grey fourteen shillings," said +Ellen. + +"Is the grey 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 dignity 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 upstairs 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 upstairs," she said, +seizing his hand; "she wants to thank you yourself, 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, ma'am," 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, ma'am, that her behaviour was such as would +have become any years. I assure you, ma'am, if I 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 old 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 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, ma'am; 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 entrust 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 grey +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 for a nankeen 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 grey 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. + +"Pho, pho," 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 as cold as the mischief 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 sprang 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 +letter 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 occasion +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 that 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 does 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 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 + + _Mac._ What is the night? + + _Lady Mac._ Almost at odds with morning, which is which. + + --MACBETH. + + +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 bedtime 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--everything 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 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'll 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 agonised 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 should 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 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 than 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 rose 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 the 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 would 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 sympathise 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 lamplight. 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 nearly 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 +anything. 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 agonising 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 grey 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 +anything; 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 blank 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 made a great fuss; but she has all the old +spirit that you need to have--and have yet, for anything 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 conclusions 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 downstairs. 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 had +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 afterwork--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 was 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 towards 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 anything 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 +downstairs, 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 apologising +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?" + +"Bless me! no," said the captain. "How is this? Hasn't she a bonnet? I +beg a thousand pardons, ma'am,--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, ma'am," 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 upstairs 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 + + So fair and foul a day I have not seen. + + --MACBETH. + + +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 toward 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 quickly 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 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 that 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 everything that could +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 tired, 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 sake He became poor, that we through +His poverty might be rich.' He took our 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 everything 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 the door, + He gently knocks,--has knocked before,-- + Has waited long,--is waiting still,-- + You treat no other friend so ill. + + Oh lovely attitude!--He stands + With open heart and outstretched hands. + Oh matchless kindness!--and He shows + This matchless kindness to His foes. + + Admit Him--for the human breast + Ne'er entertained so kind a guest. + Admit Him--for 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 + + Time and the hour run through the roughest day. + + --SHAKESPEARE. + + +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 to 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 the 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 you are 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 bare-headed +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, tying 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 you 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. 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 at all. + +The light gradually faded away till only a silver glow in the west +showed where the sun had set, and the sober grey 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 a +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, ma'am?" asked the servant who carried her baggage--"the +Eagle, or Foster's?" + +"The Eagle," said Mrs. Dunscombe. + +"Come this way, then, ma'am," said another man, the driver of the Eagle +carriage. "Now, ma'am, 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, ma'am, there is," said the driver, holding the door open; +"there's plenty of room for you, ma'am--just get in, ma'am, 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, ma'am?" 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, ma'am, 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 along. + +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 further +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 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 upstairs. It made Ellen's very heart 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 fast 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 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 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 upstairs." + +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 downstairs 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 upstairs 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 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 doughnuts, 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 + + _Gadsby._ Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to come to London? + + _2nd Car._ Time enough to go to bed with a candle, I warrant thee. + + --KING HENRY IV. + + +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 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." + +"Your 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 ha'n't come up to meet you; that's real shabby of her; +and how to get you down there to-night, I am sure it 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 over night, 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 ha'n'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 may be 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, ma'am,--yes, I believe so," said Ellen faintly. + +"Ha'n'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 +ways to-day, ha'n'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 cheek. Don't you like +bread and milk?" + +"Yes, very much indeed, ma'am," 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, ma'am." + +"You expect your pa and ma up to Thirlwall by-and-by, don't you?" + +"No, ma'am." + +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, ma'am,--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, had 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 whirling +rickety voice, for all the world like a horse 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 grey 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 with you, ha'n'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 how 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 armchair, 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, ma'am, 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, ma'am;" 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 everybody 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 in 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 the 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 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." + +"Ha'n'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 "Gee's!" and "Haw's!" 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 had 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 anything 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 uphill, 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-chair 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 light 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; but at the right a window showed light +glimmering within. Ellen made toward 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 fireplace; 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, ma'am," said Ellen timidly. + +"_What?_" said the lady, with some emphasis. + +"Didn't you expect me, ma'am?" 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, ma'am," 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, ma'am," 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 at +that 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! Bless me! it must go upstairs; 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, ma'am." + +"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, ma'am, 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, ma'am, 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, ma'am--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 teapot. + +"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 +anything, 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 + + Nimble mischance, that com'st so swift of foot! + + --SHAKESPEARE. + + +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 of 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, exceedingly 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 downstairs, a great +noise of hissing and spluttering 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 down-hearted, 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 spluttering 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 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 that 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, ma'am," when the +hissing and spluttering 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, ma'am, 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, ma'am," 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 as good as to give me a towel, +ma'am," 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 her 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 out-houses looked bright. She thought it +was the loveliest place she ever had 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 gassing 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, ma'am." + +"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, all together, 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, ma'am," 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 farther end. There were 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 awhile. 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 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 forefinger 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! Ha'n't you got never a pair of coloured stockings, that you +must go poking into the mud with white ones?" + +"No, ma'am." + +"Do you mean to say you never wore any but white ones at home?" + +"Yes, ma'am; 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 grey 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'm 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 downstairs, 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 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 lake, 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'm + 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 all. 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've 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 downstairs. + +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 +upstairs." + +"I do, ma'am," said Ellen; "a great deal better." + +"What have you been about?" + +"I have been writing, ma'am." + +"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 am 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 + + Downward, and ever farther. + And ever the brook beside; + And ever fresher murmured, + And ever clearer, the tide. + + --LONGFELLOW. _From the German._ + + +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 ha'n'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, ma'am, 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!--maybe 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 towards her; but she neither knew nor at that moment +cared about that. She stood motionless, utterly astounded at this +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?" + +"That man that drives the oxen." + +"What, Mr. Van Brunt?" And Ellen never forgot the loud ha! ha! which +burst from Miss Fortune's wide-opened 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 convulsive 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 +sha'n'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 upstairs 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'n't 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 through the beautiful country +and being for awhile 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 conversation. + +"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 well 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 with Ellen's awkwardness in +climbing fences. Where it was a possible thing, she was fain to crawl +under; but once 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. +'Taint 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 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 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 crookedest 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?" asked 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 a-going to name them all," said Nancy, "we sha'n'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 hairbreadth 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 + + Behind the door stand bags o' meal, + And in the ark is plenty. + And good hard cakes his mither makes, + And mony a sweeter dainty. + A good fat sow, a sleeky cow, + Are standing in the byre; + While winking puss, wi' mealy mou', + Is playing round the fire. + + --SCOTCH SONG. + + +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 'way 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'm blessed if I 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 mamma +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 here waiting 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 nearly 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 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 right 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 everything 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 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; anyhow 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 a-going 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 for a walk, and worked it so as to +get her into the brook, and then she 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 ha'n'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 making 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 grey 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 +arms 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, ma'am;" 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 am 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'll take twice as much any +day for what you wouldn't give me this forenoon. But never fear, Miss +Ellen, I ain't a-goin' 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 than 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 + + It's hardly in a body's pow'r + To keep at times frae being sour. + + --BURNS. + + +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, ma'am, 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 he; "I can't do 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 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, ma'am," 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 changed 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 quite fell 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 +tenpenny 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 didn't want to see you, ma'am," 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, ma'am, 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 ha'n'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 barn-yard. There were the milky mothers, five in +number, standing about, each in her own corner of the yard or +cow-house, 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 barn-yard 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 stream 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 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 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'll go again, Mr. Van Brunt?" + +"Now if I'd ha' knowed 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 are 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 ha'n'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, oh 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 you 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 awhile, 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 + + For my part, he keeps me here rustically + At home, or, to speak more properly, stays + Me here at home unkept. + + --AS YOU LIKE IT. + + +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 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 got 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, ma'am. 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 will 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; 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 gully; 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'm 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 crinkumcrankums; 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 herself above being useful; it's very strange +you should say so when you don't know anything about her." + +"I know she ha'n'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 downstairs." + +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 +to 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. Anything 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 upstairs 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's 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," said she 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 grey 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 downstairs, 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 cow-house 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-bye, 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 out 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 storeroom, where the corn for this +purpose was stored, 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 the 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 dust-pan 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 Fortune'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, ma'am,--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' spoke 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 plan 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 despatched 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 + + An ant dropped into the water; a wood pigeon took pity of her and + threw her a little bough.--L'ESTRANGE. + + +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 the 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 farther from home. The road or lane led towards a mountain +somewhat to the northwest 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, wood-way 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 farm-houses 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, ma'am." + +"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, ma'am. 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, ma'am, 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, ma'am," 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, ma'am." + +"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, ma'am," 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, ma'am. The 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, ma'am, 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, ma'am, 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 into 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, ma'am," said Ellen in a low voice. + +"Not lately?" + +"No, ma'am," in a low 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, ma'am," 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, ma'am, 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, ma'am." + +"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, ma'am, 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, ma'am." + +"Have you been any higher than this?" + +"No, ma'am." + +"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,' ma'am?" 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 sides +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 grey 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, ma'am? 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, ma'am; 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, ma'am," 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, ma'am, 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, ma'am, 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, ma'am." + +"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 grey 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, ma'am, 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, ma'am," 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, ma'am." + +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, ma'am," said Ellen doubtfully. + +"There is a question you have not asked me that I have been expecting. +Do you know who I am?" + +"No, ma'am." + +"Don't you want to know?" + +"Yes, ma'am, 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 inches?" + +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 + + "After long storms and tempests overblowne, + The sunne at length his joyous face doth cleare; + So when as fortune all her spight hath showne, + Some blissfull houres at last must needs appeare; + Else should afflicted wights oft-times despeire." + + --FAËRIE QUEENE. + + +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 18th +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 22nd 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 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 dare say--mothers always are blind. I dare say she took +every thing 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 Scotch woman! 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, ma'am." + +"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 meanwhile?" + +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 downstairs. + +"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 meantime 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 upstairs, 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. +Farther from her aunt's house, however, her spirits began to rise; her +foot fell lighter on the green sward. 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 it round 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 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 outbuilding or shed jutting out from the +side of the house. On the farther 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-humoured 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 farther 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!--maybe 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 farther 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, ma'am," 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 mosquito 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 no how!' 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, ma'am, 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, ma'am," 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, ma'am, 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, ma'am," 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, ma'am--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, ma'am, 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, ma'am, 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 downstairs 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, ma'am." + +"But how happens that, Ellen? I am afraid you don't like her." + +"No, ma'am, I don't, to be sure; how can I?" + +"Why cannot you, Ellen?" + +"Oh, I can't, ma'am! I wish I could. But, oh, ma'am, 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 _un_kind to you, +Ellen?" + +"Oh yes, ma'am, 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, ma'am, 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 that you do not think you have been in fault at all +in the matter?" + +"No, ma'am, 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 had 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, ma'am--at the same time we always do, I believe." + +"And that is twelve o'clock, isn't it?" + +"Yes, ma'am; 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, ma'am--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 housekeeping." + +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 grey 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 gently tried 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. He is very particular and delicate about his eating, is +Captain Parry." + +"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, 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 as 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 cosily seated, +poor Ellen hardly knew herself in such a pleasant state of things. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + The very sooth of it is, that an ill-habit has the force of an + ill-fate. + + --L'ESTRANGE. + + +"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, +and 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, ma'am; 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, ma'am, 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, ma'am, 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, ma'am, 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, ma'am," 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, ma'am, 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, ma'am. 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, ma'am. 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 it 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 bitterly 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 trunk 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 on 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, ma'am--yes, ma'am," 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 a while 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, ma'am; 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 dare say, 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 andirons and throwing the +tongs and shovel into the corner, in a way that made the iron ring +again. "One might as good be a stepmother 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 +upstairs 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 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'll 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, ma'am," 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 will you 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 downstairs. 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, ma'am, 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 + + Tranquilitie + So purely sate there, that waves great nor small + Did ever rise to any height at all. + + --CHAPMAN. + + +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 grey 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 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 on 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 there?" + +"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 will 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 grey, 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, that +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's 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, ma'am." + +"I hope you are not going to lay it up against her?" + +"No, ma'am--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 is not to be laughed at, +Ellen, I can tell you." + +The travellers went on with goodwill; 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, ma'am, 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'll 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 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 storey, 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 likes 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 a 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, ma'am," 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, ma'am, 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, ma'am, 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, ma'am, 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 time's 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, ma'am!" + +"You won't fear the deep snow, and the wind and cold, and the steep +hill?" + +"Oh no, ma'am, I won't mind them a bit; but, ma'am, 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, ma'am, 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 all 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 + + November chill blaws loud wi' angry sough; + The shortening winter day is near a close. + + --BURNS. + + +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 ladylike persons I have ever seen. And +everybody respects her; everybody likes to gain her goodwill; 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 stayed 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 snowstorm 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 that fast-falling shower of flakes. + +"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 on 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?" + +"Oh dear, yes!" answered Ellen rather sadly. + +"Are _you_ afraid, Ellen?" + +"No, Miss Alice--not much--I don't like it's 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 hands; 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 close 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, ma'am. 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 to-morrow, +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 waymarks, 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 family candle by-and-by." + +But more uneasily and more keenly now she strove 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? 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. + +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!--My goodness alive!--How in the name of wonder!--And my +poor little lamb!--But what on 'arth, ma'am! you must be half dead. Come +this way; just come back a little bit. Why, where were you going, +ma'am?" + +"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! Bless my soul! the storm rattled so again +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, ma'am. I guess you saw my light, ha'n'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 +farther 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 + + True is, that whilome that good poet said, + The gentle minde by gentle deeds is knowne: + For a man by nothing is so well bewrayed + As by his manners, in which plaine is showne + Of what degree and what race he is growne. + + --FAERIE QUEENE. + + +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 cosy 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, 'taint 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 +any way." + +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 rid 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, ha'n'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, I'll be bound," said Mrs. Van Brunt; "wait till +she gets 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, ma'am?" + +"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 snow-drift a _leetle_ too deep. +Good-night, ma'am." 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 sigh 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 her 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 happily 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 moreover 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 the 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 appetising 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 +downstairs, "nobody knows the blessing of taking care of other people's +children that ha'n'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 exceeding 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. 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 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-dee-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 mustn't--I can't! I mustn'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 some 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 bedclothes 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, won't 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 the 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 suppose 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 muss." + +"What do you think I care?" said the other scornfully. She leisurely +cracked and eat 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, may be, 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 elbows, "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 any thing 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 'm. My +goodness! what a fine hood! ain't that pretty?" + +The nice blue hood was turned 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 workbox 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 workbox, +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 waren'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 are 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 almost 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 now +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 am 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." + +"Aye, 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, +ha'n'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 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 ransomed me from hell with blood, + And by His pow'r my foes controlled; + 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 eyelashes. 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 + + Oh, that _had_, how sad a passage 'tis! + + --SHAKESPEARE. + + +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 dryly, +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 any one 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." + +"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'm 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 +dryly. + +"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 upstairs, 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 thunder-clouds. 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 dryly, "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 upstairs. 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 a 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 everybody. 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 handwriting 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's 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 round +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 that 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 would 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 lady-like 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 + blessing 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 letting 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 + + When icicles hang by the wall, + And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, + And Tom bears logs into the hall, + And milk comes frozen home in pail. + + --SHAKESPEARE. + + +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 frame-work 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 upstairs," said Ellen, drawing up her shoulders. The +warmth had not got inside of her wrapper yet. + +"Well, t'ain't cold here; you 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 laughingly; "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 something 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 them 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 ha'n'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 folks knowing it." + +"Pshaw! I don'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 out 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 'em have it. +That's my way. I am satisfied, provided they don't run me over." + +"'Taint _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 cow-hiding 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 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 oneself 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 are +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, ma'am," said Nancy; "but it's of no use to hold my tongue. +I do try sometimes, but I never could keep it long." + +"Have you done?" + +"I don't know, ma'am," said Nancy, shaking her head; "it's just as it +happens." + +"You tell your granny I'm 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 came 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 +downstairs, 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 downstairs, so you +can put it on when you go 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 he 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 bottom stair 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. Bless my heart! 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 upstairs; 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 then 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 carcase after carcase 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 are 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, ha'n'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, ma'am," 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. + +"Ha'n'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 of '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, ha'n'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; they ain't as good as most of the others; these are +Seek-no-furthers." + +"Seek-no-further!" said Ellen; "what a funny name. It ought to be a +mighty good apple. _I_ shall seek 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 those." + +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 upstairs. 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 upstairs 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 upon 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 go fetch it if you've a mind to," +answered Miss Fortune, dryly 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 + + O that I were an Orange tree, + That busy plant! + Then should I always laden be, + And never want + Some fruit for him that dresseth me. + + --G. HERBERT. + + +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 long 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 a 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 quietly 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-stone 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 +untoward 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 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 while, "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 +will 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 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 done 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; + O 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 tongue, 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 twentieth chapter of the 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 it 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 shortcoming 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 her 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 eat 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 + + Is supper ready, the house trimmed, rushes strewed, cobwebs swept? + + --TAMING OF THE SHREW. + + +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 +instantly 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 +round 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 barn-yard 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 mantelpiece. 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 snuffboxes," +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 wood 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, ma'am, 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, oh 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 +downstairs 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 firelight 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 fireplace, 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-ribbon 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 every one +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 +pretension 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 pretension to be a gentleman. He +valued his fine farming and fine cattle a great deal higher than Juniper +Hitchcock's gentility. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + + W' merry sangs, an' friendly cracks, + I wat they didna weary; + An' unco tales, an' funnie jokes, + Their sports were cheap an' cheery. + + --BURNS. + + +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 downstairs 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 what not 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 and 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, as they hurried in. + +"Most got through, Nancy?" inquired Bob Lawson. (Miss Fortune had gone +downstairs.) + +"Ha'n'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 downstairs?" Mr. Dennison went on +rather dryly. + +"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 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, ma'am?" + +"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. He's a +natural knack at putting bones in their places, and all that sort of +thing. 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 cosy 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 +odd 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 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 newspapers; and we get him to bring us 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 round 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. Sometimes 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 old 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 ha'n'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, ma'am." + +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 eyes 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 +afterward. + +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 +meant." + +"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. I ought not 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 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 a while 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. They 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 +round the room, panting and fanning themselves with their +pocket-handkerchiefs, and speaking in 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 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 ear from the parlour, and there at her side +stood the covered-up supper; for a few minutes it was hard work 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 downstairs?" + +"It's a bee, grandma; there's nothing the matter." + +"A bee! who's been stung? what's all the noise about?" + +"'Tisn'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, ma'am; a whole parcel of people." + +"Dear me!" said the old lady, "I oughtn't to ha' been abed! Why ha'n'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 night-cap 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 know?" + +"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, cakes 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 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. + +"Ha'n'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-nogg 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 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 +goodwill. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + + He was a gentleman on whom I built an absolute trust. + + --MACBETH. + + +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 awhile +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, ma'am, it's the master I'm wanting," said the woman, +dropping a curtsey. + +"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, ma'am; 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, ma'am; 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 o' this cowld country has chilled the life +out o' him, and trouble's cowlder than all," she added, in a lower tone. +"I seed him grow waker an' waker, an' his daar face grew thinner an' +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, but he just growd waker an' +waker. I axed the father wouldn't he see the doctor about him; but he's +an 'asy 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 like a +heavenly angel itself already, 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 jantleman that praaches at Carra,' says he; +'he's a calling for him,' says he. I knowed there wasn't a praast at all +at Carra, an' I thought he was draaming, 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 to 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 daar,' says he, 'if ye love +me,' says he, 'fetch me the good jantleman that praaches at Carra till I +spake to him.' 'Is it the praast 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 maan; it's the jantleman that spakes in the little +white church at Carra; he's not a praast 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 praast in yer own +house.' 'I'm maaning none,' says I; 'nor more he isn't a hiritic; but if +he was, he's a born angel to 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 praast, 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 has 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 the 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 sometimes 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. + +"Did 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 round 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 +on 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 don't +care either, so long as I have 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 +pin-cushion 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 is boiled the eggs, and then it will be done." + +With Margery and the chocolate pot the cat had walked in. Ellen +immediately tried to improve his acquaintance; that was not so easy. The +Captain chose the corner of the rug farthest 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 hair 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 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, at 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 +heard 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 afterward. 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 didn't 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 to 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 look 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 a fumbling 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 postillion-fashion." + +"But--Mr. Humphreys?" + +"He always goes on horseback; 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 +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 yer honour 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 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 be to 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 forehead 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 one who was 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. Humphreys, +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 night was winter in his roughest mood. + The morning sharp and clear . . . . . . . + . . . . . . . . . . . . The vault is blue + Without a cloud, and white without a speck + The dazzling splendour of the scene below. + + --COWPER. + + +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 unmistakable 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 persuaded 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 moccasins, 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 _foot_man 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 grey 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 +snowbirds!" + +By degrees the day wore on. About one o'clock they stopped at a +farm-house 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 +moccasins, 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 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, begging 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 farther 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 around 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 a 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 moroccos, 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 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 eye 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, looking 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 learnt, 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 +andirons 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 bookcase 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 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 + + He that loses anything, and gets wisdom by it, is a gainer by the + loss. + + --L'ESTRANGE. + + +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 house full 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 fireplace 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 would 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 +needle book 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 downstairs--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 needle-books; 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 +needle-book 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_?" said +Margaret. + +"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." + +"Who's 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, bringing word to clear the table, for +Aunt Sophia was coming with the moroccos. 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 needle-box, 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 Sophia," 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 things 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 the 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'm 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'm 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 sank; +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," said John quietly. + +"An uncommon instance," said Mrs. Chauncey. + +"I'm 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 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 moroccos 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 toward 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 you please," 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're 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 + + As bees flee hame wi' lades o' treasure, + The minutes winged their way wi' pleasure. + Kings may be blest, but _they_ were glorious, + O'er all the ills o' life victorious. + + --BURNS. + + +Christmas morning was dawning grey, 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 +night-gown and night-cap, and barefooted too, with a face brimful 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 little 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 +to. 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 am 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 have 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!" + +The 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 needle-book 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 daybreak 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 was 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 now 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 needle-book, 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 needle-books?" +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 of 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 they did?" 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 priests or +priestesses had made up the answer 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 take 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 the 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 for 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 needle-book!" + +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 how 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 altogether. + +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, pin-cushion, grapes, and paper of sugar-plums, +which were laid side by side carefully in a drawer. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + + But though life's valley be a vale of tears, + A brighter scene beyond that vale appears, + Whose glory, with a light that never fades, + Shoots between scattered rocks and opening shades. + + --COWPER. + + +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 pleading +of the whole family was 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 came +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're 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 abed and sleep, or for Uncle Howard to read novels, or for +grandpa to talk politics, or for mother to talk about the +fashions?--there was 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's 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 may all 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 Eleazar, 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 _feelings_ 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 would +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, Ellie, 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 it 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 + + The ancient heroes were illustrious, + For being benign, and not blustrous. + + --HUDIBRAS. + + +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; and +she must come directly. + +"I can't come just yet," said she; "I must finish this first." + +"Afterwards will just do 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'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," answered +John Humphreys. + +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 peacemaking, 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 peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of +God." She strove to get back a pleasant feeling toward 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's no such great affair," said Gilbert; "he is 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. + +"O 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 +strange guest to be over fond of her company. For the most part she and +Ellen Chauncey were left to each other. + +Meanwhile the famous needle-book 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 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 needle-book 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 +button-holes, after infinite pains, were all finished by Thursday night. +She had also made a needle-case 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 +needle-case 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'[oe]uvre_, 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. Oh +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 +about 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 am 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. O 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 meanwhile; and if it +should be so, then say what you please, only take care that you say it +in a 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 farther end of it to meet them--an old man of most +respectable appearance. He bowed very civilly, and then slipped his +priming-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 have 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 like 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 wandering 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 +smilingly, 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 them 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 but 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 + + This life, sae far's I understand, + Is a' enchanted fairy-land, + Where pleasure is the magic wand + That, wielded right, + Makes hours like minutes, hand in hand, + Dance in fu' light. + + --BURNS. + + +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. Needle-cases, 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 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 needle-cases 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 housekeeper'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." + +"Oh!" 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 very 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--what'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 walking 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 in 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. Humphrey's 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 best of all, the long evenings of +conversation and reading aloud, and bright firelights, 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 granddaughter 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 + + If erst he wished, now he longed sore. + + --FAIRFAX. + + +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 everyday +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 fourfold 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. Wiem's 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 only fairly begun a book she should go +through with it; not capriciously leave it for another, nor have +half-a-dozen about at one 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 oftentimes 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 housework, 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 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 churn, and the helping each other +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 improvements and enjoyments 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 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 + + All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and the sorrow, + All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing, + All the dull deep pain, and constant anguish of patience! + + --LONGFELLOW. + + +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 his saddle-bags, and the white horse-tail 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 ha'n'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 aunt both seemed to act strangely; and where +to find comfort she scarcely knew. She had been one day 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 tallow 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 cut 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 ha'n't told her?" said Miss Mary in an +undertone. + +"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, 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 was 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 cheeks 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's day. 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 toward 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 bookcase +and took down the first volume of "Rollin's Ancient History;" and giving +it to Ellen, 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, relighted 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 +began. 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 any 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_'; 'Oh +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 text 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, +realised 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 + + I keep his house, and I wash, wring, brew, bake, scour, dress meat, + and make the beds, and do all myself.--SHAKESPEARE. + + +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 sha'n'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 to 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 storeroom, the furthest door +in the back attic--here's the keys. Don't go 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 storeroom. A well-filled +storeroom! 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 was 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 alone 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 to 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 +dish-water. 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 acoming to +help you?" + +"Nobody." + +"Nobody! you poor chicken; do you think you're agoing 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 abed." + +"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 +upstairs. 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. Oh 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 Miss 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 as 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 +an' more. So that's what it is, you see." + +"A month and more." It was all that. Miss Fortune was not dangerously +ill; but one 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 as ill as possible, 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." + +"O 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 have time enough." + +"O 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 unexceptional 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 downstairs. 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; the 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: talking 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 teacups 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 upstairs 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 and 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 +dust-pan 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 ever 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 crank 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 upstairs, +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 +her 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 spattered and +sputtered up on Ellen's face and hands 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 +rest, went out to amuse herself with feeding the chickens, and then +upstairs 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 downstairs, "'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, beans 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 upstairs. 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 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 +should have nothing but sunshine if that was good for them. He knows it +is not; so there come clouds and rains, and 'stormy winds 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, "'taint worth your being sorry about. +Here, Nancy, clean 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 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 handwriting, 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 those beautiful +notes, it is impossible to tell. She counted it her greatest treasure +next to her little red Bible. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + + Oh what will I do wi' him, quo' he, + What will I do wi' him? + What will I do wi' him, quo' he, + What will I do wi' him? + + --OLD SONG. + + +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 grown +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 +had 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 that 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 dandelion, 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 hand 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 5th 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. "O 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 agoing 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 to 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 than 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 from? Are you thinking of John or the +horse?" + +Ellen's eye 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 to 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 horseman 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'll 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 am 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 charges +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 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?" inquired 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 new beautiful saddle and bridle; you never +saw anything so beautiful, Mr. Van Brunt; he is all brown, with one +white forefoot, 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, and was 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 sha'n'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 nowadays." + +"You might if you'd keep your ears open, mother. _What_ news, Mr. Van +Brunt?" + +"Why, here's Ellen 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 +could not have asked more careful kindness for her favourite than the +Brownie had from every man and boy about the farm. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + + Thou must run to him; for thou hast stayed so long that going will + scarce serve the turn.--SHAKESPEARE. + + +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 5th of April, as they learned 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 himself, 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 realise 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 everyday 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 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 Hitchcock 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 she 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 than 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 than 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 ha'n'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 ha' +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 abed, the way she'd look out for him! Mr. Van Brunt's as +good as at home in that house, sure enough; whoever's downstairs." + +"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. Mercy! he'll be at the corn and over everything. Run and drive him +into the barn-yard, 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 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, 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 poll, and made +such a show of fight that Timothy, after looking at her a little, fairly +turned tail, and marched out of 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 barn-yard 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 barn-yard? Now that +plaguy beast will just be back again by the time I get well to work. He +ha'n'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 to 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 barn-yard. + +"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 through the trap-door +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 Hitchcocks'; 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! 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; tell me 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 her 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 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, and 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 reined 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 ha'n't! there's one o' your friends wouldn't let me do that in a +hurry; if I ha'n't seen you I've heerd 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 to 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 of likelihood that he's to hum +at this time o' day. Sam! you lazy feller, you ha'n't got nothing to do +but to 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't know." + +"Well, then," said Mrs. Forbes, turning to Ellen, "I don't 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 & 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 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 ha'n'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 grey-haired woman with a very dead-and-alive face 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 has 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, ha'n't you?" said +the woman coaxingly; "he'll be along by-and-by. If you'll leave me 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 +Miss 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 + + And he had ridden o'er dale and down + By eight o'clock in the day, + When he was ware of a bold Tanner, + Came riding along the way. + + --OLD BALLAD. + + +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 daresay," said Miss Janet, "but I don't know so much about +him; howsoever 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 appetising 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 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 agoing 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 it 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 a 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 took to little starts and springs and +whiskey 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 mustn'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 to 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," said Mr. +Saunders. + +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 am 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 you 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 feelings 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, and 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 gully 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 history 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 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 miserable, 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 into 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 of 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 a 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 + + Now is the pleasant time, + The cool, the silent, save where silence yields + To the night-warbling bird; that now awake, + Tunes sweetest her love-laboured song; now reigns + Full orbed the moon, and with more pleasing light + Shadowy, sets off the face of things. + + --MILTON. + + +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 fore feet 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 the 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 that 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 besides. Never was tea so refreshing, or bread +and butter so sweet, or the song of birds so delightsome. When the birds +had gone to their nests, the cricket and grasshopper and tree toad and +katy-did, 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 heart full 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 and 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 and +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 +mosquitoes 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 light. + +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 +hay-fields, 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 cannot rich people look at the moon?" said Ellen. + +"Yes, but the taste for pure pleasure 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 bookcase," 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 adoing nothing, day after day. And what bothers me is the wheat in +that 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 ha'n'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 trampling 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 ha'n'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 harp-strings 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 sat +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 sank immediately at the answering glance of his. He then, in +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 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 + + _Speed._ But tell me true, will't be a match? + + _Laun._ Ask my dog; if he say, ay, it will; if he say, no, it will; + if he shake his tail and say nothing, it will. + + --TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA. + + +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 be 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 away 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 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 has not +done with it yet. When the winter came on, and the housework 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 downstairs 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 sank within 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 overpressed, 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 +sole other event that broke the quiet course of things (beside 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?" + +Ellen pointed to the buttery. He immediately went to the door and rapped +on it with his knuckles. + +"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 wheatfield. 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 hillside, 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 was 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 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. + +"Ha'n'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 is 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 agoing 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 barn-yard, 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 + + Poor little, pretty, fluttering thing, + Must we no longer live together? + And dost thou prune thy trembling wing + To take thy flight thou knowest not whither? + + --PRIOR. + + +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--may-be 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, 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, oh 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 the 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 outpouring 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 ha'n'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 ha'n'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 ha'n'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 agoing +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 seek 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 all +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 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 Larkins, 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 ha'n'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, chuckling, "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 + + She enjoys sure peace for evermore. + As weather-beaten ship arrived on happy shore. + + --SPENSER. + + +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 inhabitants 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 manner of +signification 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," she said, "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 to." + +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 horse's 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, "up stairs;" 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 at 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 like mad all around. There was no +answering echo in the little human heart that looked and listened. Ellen +loved all these 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 occasions +of 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 a man, or two for a woman. Then another +short pause. Then follows the number of 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 told 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, Ellie?" + +Ellen put her hands 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 + + I have seen angels by the sick one's pillow; + There was the soft tone and the soundless tread, + Where smitten hearts were drooping like the willow, + They stood "between the living and the dead." + + --UNKNOWN. + + +The whole Marshman family arrived to-day from Ventnor, some to see +Alice's lovely 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 folded on the breast, +were scattered some of the rich late roses, roses and rosebuds, 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. Beside 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 art 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 were 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 it 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 afeared of +finding Mr. John here, and I knew that 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 adoing, 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 lap full 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 rose-bud there, and +so; and then she went round to the other side and laid the lilies, and +two or three more roses there 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 up 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 going 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 of 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 afeared to breathe the whole +time, lest he would know I was there. It was the beautifullest prayer I +did ever hear, or ever shall, however." + +"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 on the 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 +dursn'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 rouse 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 had at first shrunk out of the way to the other side of +the room, and now when she saw an 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 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 the steamboat, the hymns, the talks; the +love and kindness that led and persuaded her so faithfully and +effectually 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 whole 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, 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 a 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," said he 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 had 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 had often +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 soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, + And drives away his fear." + +The tremble in her voice ceased, as she went on--- + + "It makes the wounded spirit whole, + And calms the troubled breast; + 'Tis 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 owned 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, "'Tis 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, + 'Tis thy Saviour, hear his word; + Jesus speaks, and speaks to thee, + 'Say, poor sinner, lov'st thou me! + + 'I delivered thee when bound, + And when bleeding healed thy wound; + Sought thee wandering, set thee right, + Turned 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 mantelpiece. +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 the 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,-- + O 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 stayed, + 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 + + A child no more!--a maiden now-- + A graceful maiden with a gentle brow; + A cheek tinged lightly, and a dove-like eye, + And all hearts bless her as she passes by. + + --MARY HOWITT. + + +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 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 atrying 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 +that 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 helps 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 kings, 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? The whilome 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 feelings 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 all +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 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 would come back, and find me there, and he might 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 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 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 on, 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 this 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 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 until 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, beside 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 lest 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 wristband 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," 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 hindrance 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 on the road and +every opening in the landscape seemed to call 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 sang 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 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 the +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 + + Ne in all the welkin was no cloud. + + --CHAUCER. + + +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 he 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 take 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 wish 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?" + +"Shorthand." + +"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 a sufficient time faithfully to your +Bible and prayer?" + +Ellen shook her head; no words were possible. He took up his walk again. +The silence had 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, 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 all 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, with 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 ever was +much like his son. Did you ever hear about it?" + +"About what, ma'am?" + +"Oh, about coming to this country; what brought him to Carra-carra?" + +"No, ma'am." + +"My father, you see, had come out long before, but the two families had +been always 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 generally have 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 +pčre, j'ai entendu plusieurs grands orateurs dans ma chapelle; j'en +ai été fort content, pour vous, toutes les fois que je vous ai +entendu, j'ai été trčs mécontent de moi-męme!" + +Ellen smiled. Miss Sophia was silent for an instant. + +"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 head 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 her; 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 +all 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, 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 both 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's 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." + +"Oh, 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 those 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 is 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. + +"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 or 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, it yet 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 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 as 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!'" + +Ellie 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 + + Who knows what may happen? Patience and shuffle the cards!... + Perhaps after all, I shall some day go to Rome, and come back St. + Peter. + + --LONGFELLOW. + + +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 +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 could read, what studies she could +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 ecstasies. 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 dryly. + +"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 nowadays, do you?" + +"A file!" said Ellen. + +"You ha'n't forgot what it means, I suppose," said Nancy, somewhat +scornfully, "'cause if you think I'm agoing to swallow that, you're +mistaken. I've seen you file off tables down yonder a few times, ha'n'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 nowadays, 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, +ha'n'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 s'pose," 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 me 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 should 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! Oh, 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 ha'n'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--came 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 ha'n'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.--George +Street, Edinburgh; and 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, 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 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 sometime 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 to-morrow 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 grey 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 grey 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'm really 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 really 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. Humphreys' 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 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 + + _Speed._ Item. _She is proud._ + + _Laun._ Out with that;--it was Eve's legacy, and cannot be ta'en + from her. + + --SHAKESPEARE. + + +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 George Street, 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 very 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 Tyne, +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 in America 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 grey 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 granddaughter." + +"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 realise 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 post-chaise 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 new +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 for 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 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 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, and +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 downstairs 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 own 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 catechising 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 who +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 States; 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 Courcey'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?" said 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 who 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 farm-house, 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," said 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 dispute his will than +he to permit it, the harmony between them was perfect and unbroken. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVIII + + Bear a lily in thy hand; + Gates of brass cannot withstand + One touch of that magic wand. + + --LONGFELLOW. + + +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 admiration. + +"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 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, 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 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 +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 realise 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. + +"Queen Mary, sir." + +"Were you thinking of 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 was," said Ellen; "I have been trying to think all about +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 stoled monks paced +through them, where now the very pavement was not. Strange it seemed, +and hard, to go back and realise 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 Fourth." + +"I don't know anything about the Popes," said Ellen. "James Fourth?--I +forget what kind of a 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 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." + +"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 Andre?" + +"I think it was right," said Ellen firmly. + +"Your reasons, my little reasoner?" asked Mr. Lindsay. + +"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 happened 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 judgment 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 uncivilised compared to these; you must make allowance for that." + +"Yes, sir, I do! but I like the civilised 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 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 et ceteras 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. + +The 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 biscuits, though she no longer knew how +they 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 difficult 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 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 book-cases are open--perhaps you can find something +there; or there are prints in those portfolios; or you can go over 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 bygones be bygones. 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 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 ever 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 baby ever syne; she hasna stirred a +finger. Oh, 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 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 long's yoursel. And 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 realise 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, 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 be 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; 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 to 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 of 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, +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 been always 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 entičrement passé!" + +Mr. Lindsay could not or would 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 ça!" 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 châlet, 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 the 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 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 was 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 of 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 obligée, 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 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 question 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 acknowledgments 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 nor 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 downstairs 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 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 arm's 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 +argument." + +"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 breach +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 + + My heart is sair, I dare nae tell. + My heart is sair for somebody; + I could wake a winter night + For the sake of somebody. + Oh-hon! for somebody! + Oh hey! for somebody! + I wad do--what wad I not, + For the sake of somebody. + + --SCOTCH SONG. + + +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 book-case, a practising piano, and +various et ceteras. 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 +overtopped 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 those friends, nor allude to +them, especially in any way that would 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 on her bed, very naturally Ellen's thoughts went back +to the last time she had 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 daresay they had their reasons for taking it up," said her aunt; +"they had acted from interested motives, 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, fraternise 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, 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 +never will 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 sank; 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, her eyes opening 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 to 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 that 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 the 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 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 of 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 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 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 that +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 it 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 house-keeper'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 had soon 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 M. 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 +some troublesome pronunciations." + +"With nothing else, I suppose? Ah, well, we must submit to be stupid. +How do you do to-day?" + +"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 grey, isn't she beautiful? she's the +loveliest creature in the whole stud." + +"Oh, 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?" + +"Oh, he comes and looks at me and says, 'Trčs bien, trčs bien,' +and 'Allez comme ça,' 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 eyes soon singled out Ellen. + +"My daughter sits well," he remarked to the riding-master. + +"A merveille! Mademoiselle Lindsay 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 opinion might affect theirs. + +"C'est trčs bien--c'est trčs bien," he muttered--"c'est +parfaitement--Monsieur, mademoiselle votre fille has had good +lessons--voilŕ qui est entičrement 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 tantôt--a little +while ago--et puis récommencé?" + +"Monsieur, he led with the wrong foot." + +"C'est ça,--justement!" he exclaimed. + +"Have you practised 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 pouvait 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 should have a horse and rides to her heart's content. + + + + +CHAPTER L + + She was his care, his hope, and his delight, + Most in his thought, and ever in his sight. + + --DRYDEN. + + +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 or 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, canvass 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 +realised 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 acts +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 then 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 were +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 rather 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. + +"Oh, 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 old +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 in 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 o' 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 ye," 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." + +"Frinds! and wha has mair frinds than yoursel', Miss Ellen, or better +frinds?--father and mither and a'; where wad ye find thae that will love +ye mair?" + +"Ah, but I haven't my brother!" sobbed Ellen. + +"Your brither, Miss Ellen? An' wha'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 aught 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 wha 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 Scotchwoman, +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 sank 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." + +"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 +sang "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 am 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 consequences. + +"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 + + Other days come back on me + With recollected music. + + --BYRON. + + +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 ladylike always," said Mrs. Lindsay. + +"Yes, I know that, and perfectly childlike 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, with 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 Mackintoshes, 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 MacPherson 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 were 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 back 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 rose 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 book-case," 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 for 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 consequently with +everybody and everything else; consequently conscience would not give +her a moment's peace; consequently 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 +apologise to Mr. Lindsay," said conscience. "Apologise! but I haven't +done wrong." "Yes, you have," said conscience; "you spoke improperly; he +is justly 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.[1] She was sorry to lose M. +Muller, but she could not have kept him in Edinburgh; he quitted +Scotland about that time. + +[Footnote 1: "Then by a sunbeam I will climb to thee."--GEORGE HERBERT.] + +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 their 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 and +sunshiny face and busy, happy demeanour, and fancied, though he +sometimes had doubts about it, that she did not trouble herself much +with old recollections, or would in time get over them. It was 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 cheeks. 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 + + _Hon._--Why didn't you show him up, blockhead? + + _Butler._--Show him up, sir? With all my heart, sir, + Up or down, all's one to me. + + --GOOD-NATURED MAN. + + +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 it was. There! 'tain'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 rose-bud +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 first 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, "Oh, 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 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, Ellie." + +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 meantime, 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. "There +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 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 is 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 until 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 sighed. + +"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 it 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, Ellie, 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 had given myself to you a great while ago; long before I was +his daughter you called me your little sister--I can't undo 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 will 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, now +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 taken 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 own +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 almost everybody 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 restated 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 +apologise," 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 +acquaintance 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 +while 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 this 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 that +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 has 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 eye 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 learned 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 drily said that Mr. Humphreys had frankly spoken of +it before him, and as he had 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 the 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 + + + + + GROSSET & DUNLAP'S Good Value Edition of + POPULAR BOOKS + +The following books are printed from new, large type plates, on fine +laid paper of excellent quality, and durably bound in the best silk +finished book cloth, each with an attractive and distinctive cover +design. They are in every way superior to any other editions at the same +price. They are for sale by all booksellers, or will be mailed by the +publishers on receipt of + + _Fifty Cents per Volume:_ + + The Little Minister J. M. Barrie + + Wee Macgreegor J. J. 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Southworth + + Uncle Tom's Cabin Harriet Beecher Stowe + + The Wide Wide World Susan Warner + + * * * * * + + _The_ Pleasures of Literature + and the Solace of Books + + COMPILED BY JOSEPH SHALER WITH + AN INTRODUCTION BY ANDREW LANG + +A volume that will appeal to every book lover, presenting, as it does, +in chaste and elegant style, the thoughts of great men of all ages on +books and the reading thereof. + +A particularly dainty and appropriate gift for the reader or student, +and one that is sure to be appreciated. + +_Printed on the finest deckle edge paper and bound in the best silk +finished cloth, with frontispiece and rubricated title page. Elaborate +cover design in gold. Price, $1.00_ + + * * * * * + + Mrs. Jerningham's Journal + John Jerningham's Journal + +The re-publication of this exquisite love story inverse is an event that +will be heartily welcomed by those who can appreciate beauty of +sentiment when presented in an unusual guise. 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PRICE, $1.25. + +_THE SAME_, small 12mo in size, handsomely bound in cloth and printed on +the finest deckle edge paper, with the fifteen illustrations in two +colors, and containing the same matter as the foregoing volume. PRICE, +50c. + +_THE SAME_, in booklet form, 24 pages, printed in two colors, the +complete text of the fourth edition. PRICE, 15c. + + * * * * * + +_Kipling's Poems, Barrack Room Ballads, Departmental Ditties, etc._ + +Two volumes in one, with glossary. Fourteen full-page pen-and-ink +drawings together with a new portrait of the author. Handsomely bound in +cloth, gilt tops, and printed on old Chester antique deckle edge paper. +Size, 5-1/4 x 7-5/8 in., 340 pages. PRICE, $1.50. + + _All books sent postpaid on receipt of price_ + + * * * * * + + _No Field Collection is Complete Without this Book_ + + A LITTLE BOOK _of_ TRIBUNE VERSE + + _By_ EUGENE FIELD + +Compiled and edited by JOSEPH G. BROWN, formerly city editor of the +_Denver Tribune_, and an intimate friend and associate of the poet +during the several years in which he was on the staff of that paper. + +This volume resurrects a literary treasure which has been buried for +many years in the forgotten files of a newspaper, and it is, as nearly +as it has been possible to make, an absolutely complete collection of +the hitherto unpublished poems of the gifted author. + +These poems are the early products of Field's genius. They breathe the +spirit of Western life of twenty years ago. 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