Sweeping and dusting.
Great preparations were making all Saturday and Monday for the
expected gathering. From morning till night Miss Fortune was
in a perpetual bustle. The great oven was heated no less than
three several times on Saturday alone. Ellen could hear the
breaking of eggs in the buttery, and the sound of beating or
whisking, for a long time together; and then Miss Fortune
would come out with floury hands, and plates of empty egg-
shells made their appearance. But Ellen saw no more. Whenever
the coals were swept out of the oven, and Miss Fortune had
made sure that the heat was just right for her purposes, Ellen
was sent out of the way, and when she got back there was
nothing to be seen but the fast-shut oven door. It was just
the same when the dishes, in all their perfection, were to
come out of the oven again. The utmost Ellen was permitted to
see was the napkin covering some stray cake or pie that by
chance had to pass through the kitchen where she was.
As she could neither help nor look on, the day passed rather
wearily. She tried studying; a very little, she found, was
enough to satisfy both mind and body in their present state.
She longed to go out again and see how the snow looked, but a
fierce wind all the fore part of the day made it unfit for
her. Towards the middle of the afternoon she saw with joy that
it had lulled, and, though very cold, was so bright and calm,
that she might venture. She had eagerly opened the kitchen
door to go up and get ready, when a long weary yawn from her
old grandmother made her look back. The old lady had laid her
knitting in her lap, and bent her face down to her hand, which
she was rubbing across her brow, as if to clear away the tired
feeling that had settled there. Ellen's conscience immediately
brought up Alice's words "Can't you do something to pass
away a tedious hour now and then?" The first feeling was of
vexed regret that they should have come into her head at that
moment; then conscience said that was very selfish. There was
a struggle. Ellen stood with the door in her hand, unable to
go out or come in. But not long. As the words came back upon
her memory "A charge to keep I have" her mind was made up;
after one moment's prayer for help and forgiveness, she shut
the door, came back to the fireplace, and spoke in a cheerful
tone
"Grandma, wouldn't you like to have me read something to you?"
"Read!" answered the old lady "laws a me! _I_ don't read
nothing, deary."
"But wouldn't you like to have _me_ read to you, Grandma?"
The old lady, in answer to this, laid down her knitting,
folded both arms around Ellen, and, kissing her a great many
times, declared she should like anything that came out of that
sweet little mouth. As soon as she was set free, Ellen brought
her Bible, sat down close beside her, and read chapter after
chapter; rewarded even then by seeing that, though her
grandmother said nothing, she was listening with fixed
attention, bending down over her knitting as if in earnest
care to catch every word. And when at last she stopped, warned
by certain noises downstairs that her aunt would presently be
bustling in, the old lady again hugged her close to her bosom,
kissing her forehead and cheeks and lips, and declaring that
she was "a great deal sweeter than any sugar-plums;" and Ellen
was very much surprised to feel her face wet with a tear from
her grandmother's cheek. Hastily kissing her again (for the
first time in her life), she ran out of the room, her own
tears starting, and her heart swelling big. "Oh! how much
pleasure," she thought, "I might have given my poor Grandma,
and how I have let her alone all this while! How wrong I have
been! But it shan't be so in future!"
It was not quite sundown, and Ellen thought she might yet have
two or three minutes in the open air. So she wrapped up very
warm and went out to the chip-yard.
Ellen's heart was very light; she had just been fulfilling a
duty that cost her a little self-denial, and the reward had
already come; and now it seemed to her that she had never seen
anything so perfectly beautiful as the scene before her the
brilliant snow that lay in a thick carpet over all the fields
and hills, and the pale streaks of sunlight stretching across
it between the long shadows that reached now from the barn to
the house. One moment the light tinted the snow-capped fences
and whitened barn-roofs; then the lights and the shadows
vanished together, and it was all one cold, dazzling white.
"Oh, how glorious!" Ellen almost shouted to herself. It was
too cold to stand still; she ran to the barnyard to see the
cows milked. There they were all her old friends Streaky
and Dolly, and Jane and Sukey, and Betty Flynn sleek and
contented; winter and summer were all the same to them. And
Mr. Van Brunt was very glad to see her there again, and Sam
Larkens and Johnny Low looked as if they were too, and Ellen
told them with great truth she was very glad indeed to be
there; and then she went in to supper with Mr. Van Brunt and
an amazing appetite.
That was Saturday. Sunday passed quietly, though Ellen could
not help suspecting it was not entirely a day of rest to her
aunt; there was a savoury smell of cooking in the morning,
which nothing that came on the table by any means accounted
for; and Miss Fortune was scarcely to be seen the whole day.
With Monday morning began a grand bustle, and Ellen was well
enough now to come in for her share. The kitchen, parlour,
hall, shed, and lower kitchen, must all be thoroughly swept
and dusted; this was given to her, and a morning's work pretty
near she found it. Then she had to rub bright all the brass
handles of the doors, and the big brass andirons in the
parlour, and the brass candlesticks on the parlour mantel-
piece. When at last she got through, and came to the fire to
warm herself, she found her grandmother lamenting that her
snuff-box was empty, and asking her daughter to fill it for
her.
"Oh! I can't be bothered to be running upstairs to fill snuff-
boxes," answered that lady; "you'll have to wait."
"I'll get it, Grandma," said Ellen, "if you'll tell me where."
"Sit down, and be quiet!" said Miss Fortune; "you go into my
room just when I bid you, and not till then."
Ellen sat down. But no sooner was Miss Fortune hid in the
buttery, than the old lady beckoned her to her side, and
nodding her head a great many times, gave her the box, saying,
softly
"You can run up now; she won't see you, deary. It's in a jar
in the closet. Now's the time."
Ellen could not bear to say no. She hesitated a minute, and
then boldly opened the buttery door.
"Keep out! what do you want?"
"She wanted me to go for the snuff," said Ellen, in a whisper;
"please, do let me I won't look at anything, nor touch
anything, but just get the snuff."
With an impatient gesture, her aunt snatched the box from her
hand, pushed Ellen out of the buttery, and shut the door. The
old lady kissed and fondled her, as if she had done what she
had only tried to do; smoothed down her hair, praising its
beauty, and whispered
"Never mind, deary you'll read to Grandma, won't you?"
It cost Ellen no effort now. With the beginning of kind
offices to her poor old parent, kind feeling had sprung up
fast; instead of disliking and shunning, she had begun to love
her.
There was no dinner for any one this day. Mr. and Mrs. Van
Brunt came to an early tea; after which, Ellen was sent to
dress herself, and Mr. Van Brunt to get some pieces of board
for the meat-choppers. He came back presently with an armful
of square bits of wood; and sitting down before the fire,
began to whittle the rough sawn ends over the hearth. His
mother grew nervous. Miss Fortune bore it as she would have
borne it from no one else, but vexation was gathering in her
breast for the first occasion. Presently, Ellen's voice was
heard singing down the stairs.
"I'd give something to stop that child's pipe!" said Miss
Fortune; "she's eternally singing the same thing over and over
something about 'a charge to keep' I'd a good notion to
give her a charge to keep this morning; it would have been to
hold her tongue."
"That would have been a public loss, _I_ think," said Mr. Van
Brunt, gravely.
"Well, you _are_ making a precious litter!" said the lady,
turning short upon him.
"Never mind," said he, in the same tone "it's nothing but
what the fire'll burn up, anyhow; don't worry yourself about
it."
Just as Ellen came in, so did Nancy by the other door.
"What are you here for?" said Miss, Fortune with an ireful
face.
"Oh, come to see the folks, and get some peaches," said Nancy;
"come to help along, to be sure."
"Ain't your Grandma coming?"
"No, Maam, she ain't. I knew she wouldn't be of much use, so
I thought I wouldn't ask her."
Miss Fortune immediately ordered her out. Half-laughing, half
serious, Nancy tried to keep her ground, but Miss Fortune was
in no mood to hear parleying. She laid violent hands on the
passive Nancy, and between pulling and pushing, at last got
her out and shut the door. Her next sudden move was to haul
off her mother to bed. Ellen looked her sorrow at this, and
Mr. Van Brunt whistled _his_ thoughts; but that either made
nothing, or made Miss Fortune more determined. Off she went,
with her old mother under her arm. While she was gone, Ellen
brought the broom to sweep up the hearth, but Mr. Van Brunt
would not let her.
"No," said he; "it's more than you nor I can do. You know,"
said he, with a sly look, "we might sweep up the shavings into
the wrong corner!"
This entirely overset Ellen's gravity, and unluckily she could
not get it back again, even though warned by Mrs. Van Brunt
that her aunt was coming. Trying only made it worse, and Miss
Fortune's entrance was but the signal for a fresh burst of
hearty merriment. What she was laughing at, was of course
instantly asked, in no pleased tone of voice. Ellen could not
tell; and her silence and blushing only made her aunt more
curious.
"Come, leave bothering her," said Mr. Van Brunt, at last; "she
was only laughing at some of my nonsense, and she won't tell
on me."
"Will you swear to that?" said the lady, sharply.
"Humph! no, I won't swear; unless you will go before a
magistrate with me; but it is true."
"I wonder if you think I am as easy blinded as all that comes
to!" said Miss Fortune, scornfully.
And Ellen saw that her aunt's displeasure was all gathered
upon her for the evening. She was thinking of Alice's words,
and trying to arm herself with patience and gentleness, when
the door opened, and in walked Nancy as demurely as if nobody
had ever seen her before.
"Miss Fortune, granny sent me to tell you she is sorry she
can't come to-night; she don't think it would do for her to be
out so late; she's a little touch of the rheumatics, she
says."
"Very well," said Miss Fortune. "Now, clear out."
"You had better not say so, Miss Fortune; I'll do as much for
you as any two of the rest see if I don't!"
"I don't care if you did as much as fifty!" said Miss
Fortune impatiently. "I won't have you here; so go, or I'll
give you something to help you along."
Nancy saw she had no chance with Miss Fortune in her present
humour, and went quickly out. A little while after, Ellen was
standing at the window, from which, through the shed window,
she had a view of the chip-yard, and there she saw Nancy
lingering still, walking round and round in a circle, and
kicking the snow with her feet in a discontented fashion.
"I am very glad she isn't going to be here," thought Ellen.
"But, poor thing! I dare say she is very much disappointed.
And how sorry she will feel going back all that long, long way
home! What if I should get her leave to stay? wouldn't it be a
fine way of returning good for evil? But, O dear! I don't want
her here! But that's no matter "
The next minute, Mr. Van Brunt was half startled by Ellen's
hand on his shoulder, and the softest of whispers in his ear.
He looked up, very much surprised.
"Why, do _you_ want her?" said he, likewise in a low tone.
"No," said Ellen, "but I know I should feel very sorry if I
was in her place."
Mr. Van Brunt whistled quietly to himself. "Well!" said he,
"you _are_ a good-natured piece."
"Miss Fortune," said he, presently, "if that mischievous girl
comes in again, I recommend you to let her stay."
"Why?"
" 'Cause it's true what she said she'll do you as much good
as half-a-dozen. She'll behave herself this evening, I'll
engage, or, if she don't, I'll make her."
"She's too impudent to live! But I don't care her
grandmother is another sort; but I guess she is gone by this
time."
Ellen waited only till her aunt's back was turned. She slipped
down stairs and out at the kitchen door, and ran up the slope
to the fence of the chip-yard.
"Nancy! Nancy!"
"What?" said Nancy, wheeling about.
"If you go in now, I guess Aunt Fortune will let you stay."
"What makes you think so?" said the other, surlily.
" 'Cause Mr.Van Brunt was speaking to her about it. Go in and
you'll see."
Nancy looked doubtfully at Ellen's face, and then ran hastily
in. More slowly Ellen went back by the way she came. When she
reached the upper kitchen she found Nancy as busy as possible
as much at home already as if she had been there all day;
helping to set the table in the hall, and going to and fro
between that and the buttery with an important face. Ellen was
not suffered to help, nor even to stand and see what was
doing; so she sat down in the corner, by her old friend Mrs.
Van Brunt, and with her head in her lap watched, by the fire-
light, the busy figures that went back and forward, and Mr.
Van Brunt, who still sat working at his bits of board. There
were pleasant thoughts in Ellen's head, that kept the dancing
blaze company. Mr. Van Brunt once looked up, and asked her
what she was smiling at; the smile brightened at his question,
but he got no more answer.
At last the supper was all set out in the hall, so that it
could very easily be brought into the parlour when the time
came; the waiter, with the best cups and saucers, which always
stood covered with a napkin on the table in the front room,
was carried away; the great pile of wood in the parlour fire
place, built ever since morning, was kindled; all was in
apple-pie order, and nothing was left but to sweep up the
shavings that Mr. Van Brunt had made. This was done; and then
Nancy seized hold of Ellen.
"Come along," said she, pulling her to the window "come
along, and let us watch the folks come in."
"But it isn't time for them to be here yet," said Ellen; "the
fire is only just burning."
"Fiddle-de-dee! they won't wait for the fire to burn, I can
tell you. They'll be along directly, some of them. I wonder
what Miss Fortune is thinking of that fire had ought to have
been burning this long time ago but they won't set to work
till they all get here, that's one thing. Do you know what's
going to be for supper?"
"No."
"Not a bit?"
"No."
"Ain't that funny! Then I'm better off than you. I say, Ellen,
any one would think _I_ was Miss Fortune's niece, and you was
somebody else, wouldn't they? Goodness! I'm glad I ain't. I am
going to make part of the supper myself what do you think of
that? Miss Fortune always has grand suppers when she has 'em
at all; 'tain't very often, that's one thing. I wish she'd
have a bee every week, I know, and let me come and help. Hark!
didn't I tell you? there's somebody coming this minute;
don't you hear the sleigh-bells? I'll tell you who it is now;
it's the Lawsons you see if it ain't. It's good it's such a
bright night we can see 'em first-rate. There here they come
just as I told you here's Mimy Lawson the first one if
there's anybody I do despise, it's Mimy Lawson."
"Hush!" said Ellen. The door opened, and the lady herself
walked in, followed by three others large, tall women,
muffled from head to foot against the cold. The quiet kitchen
was speedily changed into a scene of bustle. Loud talking and
laughing a vast deal of unrobing pushing back and pulling
up chairs on the hearth and Nancy and Ellen running in and
out of the room with countless wrappers, cloaks, shawls,
comforters, hoods, mittens, and moccasins.
"What a precious muss it will be to get 'em all their own
things when they come to go away again," said Nancy. "Throw
'em all down there, Ellen, in that heap. Now, come quick
somebody else'll be here directly."
"Which is Miss Mimy?" said Ellen.
"That big ugly woman in a purple frock. The one next her is
Kitty the black-haired one is Mary, and t'other is Fanny.
Ugh! don't look at 'em; I can't bear 'em."
"Why?"
" 'Cause I don't, I can tell you; reason good. They are as
stingy as they can live. Their way is to get as much as they
can out of other folks, and let other folks get as little as
they can out of them. I know 'em. Just watch that purple frock
when it comes to the eating. There's Mr. Bob."
"Mr. who?"
"Bob Bob Lawson. He's a precious small young man, for such a
big one. There go take his hat. Miss Fortune," said Nancy,
coming forward, "mayn't the gentlemen take care of their own
things in the stoop, or must the young ladies wait upon them,
too? t'other room won't hold everything neither."
This speech raised a general laugh, in the midst of which Mr.
Bob carried his own hat and cloak into the shed, as desired.
Before Nancy had done chuckling came another arrival a tall,
lank gentleman, with one of those unhappy-shaped faces that
are very broad at the eyes and very narrow across the chops,
and having a particularly grave and dull expression. He was
welcomed with such a shout of mingled laughter, greeting, and
jesting, that the room was in a complete hurly-burly; and a
plain-looking, stout, elderly lady, who had come in just
behind him, was suffered to stand unnoticed.
"It's Miss Janet," whispered Nancy "Mr. Marshchalk's aunt.
Nobody wants to see her here; she's one of your pious kind,
and that's a kind your aunt don't take to."
Instantly Ellen was at her side, offering gently to relieve
her of hood and cloak, and with a tap on his arm drawing Mr.
Van Brunt's attention to the neglected person.
Quite touched by the respectful politeness of her manner, the
old lady inquired of Miss Fortune, as Ellen went off with a
load of mufflers, "who was that sweet little thing?"
"It's a kind of sweetmeats that is kept for company, Miss
Janet," replied Miss Fortune, with a darkened brow.
"She's too good for everyday use, that's a fact," remarked Mr.
Van Brunt.
Miss Fortune coloured and tossed her head, and the company
were for a moment still with surprise. Another arrival set
them agoing again.
"Here come the Hitchcocks, Ellen," said Nancy. "Walk in, Miss
Mary walk in, Miss Jenny Mr. Marshchalk has been here this
great while."
Miss Mary Hitchcock was in nothing remarkable. Miss Jenny,
when her wrappers were taken off, showed a neat, little, round
figure, and a round face of very bright and good-humoured
expression. It fastened Ellen's eye, till Nancy whispered her
to look at Mr. Juniper Hitchcock, and that young gentleman
entered, dressed in the last style of elegance. His hair was
arranged in a faultless manner unless, perhaps, it had a
_little_ too much of the tallow-candle; for when he had sat for
a while before the fire, it had somewhat the look of being
excessively wet with perspiration. His boots were as shiny as
his hair; his waistcoat was of a startling pattern; his
pantaloons were very tightly strapped down; and at the end of
a showy watch-riband hung some showy seals.
The kitchen was now one buzz of talk and good-humour; Ellen
stood half-smiling to herself to see the universal smile, when
Nancy twitched her.
"Here's more coming Cilly Dennison, I guess no, it's too
tall; _who_ is it?"
But Ellen flung open the door with a half-uttered scream, and
threw herself into the arms of Alice, and then led her in; her
face full of such extreme joy, that it was perhaps one reason
why her aunt's wore a very doubtful air as she came forward.
That could not stand, however, against the graceful politeness
and pleasantness of Alice's greeting. Miss Fortune's brow
smoothed, her voice cleared, she told Miss Humphreys she was
very welcome and she meant it. Clinging close to her friend
as she went from one to another, Ellen was delighted to see
that everyone echoed the welcome. Every face brightened at
meeting hers, every eye softened, and Jenny Hitchcock even
threw her arms round Alice and kissed her.
Ellen left now the window to Nancy, and stood fast by her
adopted sister, with a face of satisfaction it was pleasant to
see, watching her very lips as they moved. Soon the door
opened again, and various voices hailed the new-comer as
"Jane," "Jany," and "Jane Huff." She was a decidedly plain-
looking country girl; but when she came near, Ellen saw a
sober, sensible face, and a look of thorough good-nature,
which immediately ranked her next to Jenny Hitchcock in her
fancy. Mr. Bill Huff followed, a sturdy young man; quite as
plain, and hardly so sensible-looking; he was still more
shining with good-nature. He made no pretensions to the
elegance of Mr. Juniper Hitchcock; but, before the evening was
over, Ellen had a vastly greater respect for him.
Last, not least, came the Dennisons; it took Ellen some time
to make up her mind about them. Miss Cilly, or Cecilia, was
certainly very elegant indeed. Her hair was in the extremest
state of nicety, with a little round curl plastered in front
of each ear; how she coaxed them to stay there, Ellen could
not conceive. She wore a real watch there was no doubt of
that and there was even a ring on one of her fingers, with
two or three blue or red stones in it. Her dress was smart,
and so was her figure, and her face was pretty; and Ellen
overheard one of the Lawsons whisper to Jenny Hitchcock that
"there wasn't a greater lady in the land than Cilly Dennison."
Her brother was very different; tall and athletic, and rather
handsome, _he_ made no pretensions to be a gentleman. He valued
his fine farming and fine cattle a great deal higher than
Juniper Hitchcock's gentility.