Shows what noise a bee can make when it gets into the house.
As the party were all gathered, it was time to set to work.
The fire in the front room was burning up finely now, but Miss
Fortune had no idea of having pork-chopping or apple-paring
done there. One party was despatched down-stairs into the
lower kitchen; the others made a circle round the fire. Every
one was furnished with a sharp knife, and a basket of apples
was given to each two or three. Now it would be hard to say
whether talking or working went on best. Not faster moved the
tongues than the fingers; not smoother went the knives than
the flow of talk; while there was a constant leaping of
quarters of apples from the hands that had prepared them into
the bowls, trays, or whatnot, that stood on the hearth to
receive them. Ellen had nothing to do: her aunt had managed it
so, though she would gladly have shared the work that looked
so pretty and pleasant in other people's hands. Miss Fortune
would not let her; so she watched the rest and amused herself
as well as she could with hearing and seeing; and standing
between Alice and Jenny Hitchcock, she handed them the apples
out of the basket as fast as they were ready for them. It was
a pleasant evening that. Laughing and talking went on merrily;
stories were told; anecdotes, gossip, jokes, passed from mouth
to mouth; and not one made himself so agreeable, or had so
much to do with the life and pleasure of the party, as Alice.
Ellen saw it, delighted. The pared apples kept dancing into
the bowls and trays; the baskets got empty surprisingly fast;
Nancy and Ellen had to run to the barrels in the shed again
for fresh supplies.
"Do they mean to do all these to-night?" said Ellen to Nancy,
on one of these occasions.
"I don't know what _they_ mean, I am sure," replied Nancy,
diving down into the barrel to reach the apples; "if you had
asked me what _Miss Fortune meant_, I might ha' given a guess."
"But only look," said Ellen "only so many done, and all
these to do! Well, I know what 'busy as a bee' means now, if
I never did before."
"You'll know it better to-morrow, I can tell you."
"Why?"
"Oh, wait till you see. I wouldn't be you to-morrow for
something, though. Do you like sewing?"
"Sewing!" said Ellen. But "Girls! girls! what _are_ you
leaving the door open for!" sounded from the kitchen, and they
hurried in.
" 'Most got through, Nancy?" inquired Bob Lawson. (Miss
Fortune had gone downstairs.)
"Han't begun to, Mr. Lawson. There's every bit as many to do
as there was at your house t'other night."
"What on airth does she want with such a sight of 'em,"
inquired Dan Dennison.
"Live on pies and apple-sass till next summer," suggested Mimy
Lawson.
"That's the stuff for my money!" replied her brother; "taters
and apple-sass is my sass in the winter."
"It's good those is easy got," said his sister Mary; "the sass
is the most of the dinner to Bob, most commonly."
"Are they fixing for more apple-sass down-stairs?" Mr.
Dennison went on rather drily.
"No hush!" said Juniper Hitchcock "sassages!"
"Humph!" said Dan, as he speared up an apple out of the basket
on the point of his knife "ain't that something like what
you can call killing two"
"Just that, exactly," said Jenny Hitchcock, as Dan broke off
short, and the mistress of the house walked in. "Ellen," she
whispered, "don't you want to go downstairs and see when the
folks are coming up to help us? And tell the doctor he must be
spry, for we ain't agoing to get through in a hurry," she
added, laughing.
"Which is the doctor, Maam?"
"The doctor! Doctor Marshchalk! don't you know?"
"Is he a doctor?" said Alice.
"No, not exactly, I suppose, but he's just as good as the
real. There was a man broke his leg horribly at Thirlwall, the
other day, and Gibson was out of the way, and Marshchalk set
it, and did it famously they said. So go, Ellen, and bring us
word what they are all about."
Mr. Van Brunt was head of the party in the lower kitchen. He
stood at one end of the table, cutting, with his huge knife,
the hard-frozen pork into very thin slices, which the rest of
the company took, and, before they had time to thaw, cut up
into small dice on the little boards Mr. Van Brunt had
prepared. As large a fire as the chimney would hold was built
up and blazing finely; the room looked as cozy and bright as
the one upstairs, and the people as busy and as talkative.
They had less to do, however, or they had been more smart, for
they were drawing to the end of their chopping; of which Miss
Janet declared herself very glad, for, she said, "the wind
came sweeping in under the doors, and freezing her feet the
whole time, and she was sure the biggest fire ever was built
couldn't warm that room;" an opinion in which Mrs. Van Brunt
agreed perfectly. Miss Janet no sooner spied Ellen standing in
the chimney-corner, than she called her to her side, kissed
her, and talked to her a long time, and finally, fumbling in
her pocket, brought forth an old, little, three-cornered pin-
cushion, which she gave her for a keepsake. Jane Huff and her
brother also took kind notice of her; and Ellen began to think
the world was full of nice people. About half-past eight the
choppers went up and joined the company, who were paring
apples; the circle was a very large one now, and the buzz of
the tongues grew quite furious.
"What are you smiling at?" asked Alice of Ellen, who stood at
her elbow.
"Oh, I don't know," said Ellen, smiling more broadly; and
presently added "they're all so kind to me."
"Who?"
"Oh, everybody Miss Jenny, and Miss Jane Huff, and Miss
Janet, and Mrs. Van Brunt, and Mr. Huff they all speak so
kindly, and look so kindly at me. But it's very funny what a
notion people have for kissing I wish they hadn't I've run
away from three kisses already, and I'm so afraid somebody
else will try next."
"You don't seem very bitterly displeased," said Alice,
smiling.
"I am, though I can't bear it," said Ellen, laughing and
blushing. "There's Mr. Dennison caught me, in the first place,
and tried to kiss me, but I tried so hard to get away, I
believe he saw I was really in good earnest, and let me go.
And just now only think of it! while I was standing
talking to Miss Jane Huff, downstairs, her brother caught me,
and kissed me, before I knew what he was going to do. I
declare it's too bad!" said Ellen, rubbing her cheek very
hard, as if she would rub off the affront.
"You must let it pass, my dear; it is one way of expressing
kindness. They feel kindly towards you, or they would not do
it."
"Then I wish they wouldn't feel quite so kindly," said Ellen
"that's all. Hark! what was that?"
"What is that?" said somebody else; and instantly there was
silence, broken again, after a minute or two, by the faint
blast of a horn.
"It's old Father Swaim, I reckon," said Mr. Van Brunt; "I'll
go fetch him in."
"Oh, yes! bring him in bring him in," was heard on all
sides.
"That horn makes me think of what happened to me once," said
Jenny Hitchcock to Ellen. "I was a little girl at school, not
so big as you are; and one afternoon, when we were all as
still as mice, and studying away, we heard Father Swaim's horn
"
"What does he blow it for?" said Ellen, as Jenny stooped for
her knife, which she had let fall.
"Oh to let people know he's there, you know; did you never see
Father Swaim?"
"No."
"La! he's the funniest old fellow! He goes round and round the
country, carrying the news-papers; and we get him to bring our
letters from the post-office, when there are any. He carries
'em in a pair of saddle-bags hanging across that old white
horse of his I don't think that horse will ever grow old, no
more than his master; and in summer he has a stick so long
with a horse's tail tied to the end of it, to brush away the
flies, for the poor horse has had _his_ tail cut off pretty
short. I wonder if it isn't the very same," said Jenny,
laughing heartily: "Father Swaim thought he could manage it
best, I guess."
"But what was it that happened to you that time at school?"
said Ellen.
"Why, when we heard the horn blow, our master the
schoolmaster, you know went out to get a paper; and I was
tired with sitting still, so I jumped up, and ran across the
room and then back again, and over and back again, five or six
times; and when he came in, one of the girls up and told of
it. It was Fanny Lawson," said Jenny, in a whisper to Alice,
"and I think she ain't much different now from what she was
then. I can hear her now 'Mr. Starks, Jenny Hitchcock's been
running all around the room.' Well, what do you think he did
to me? He took hold of my two hands, and swung me round and
round by the arms, till I didn't know which was head and which
was feet."
"What a queer schoolmaster!" said Ellen.
"Queer enough; you may say that. His name was Starks; the
boys used to call him Starksification. We did hate him, that's
a fact. I'll tell you what he did to a black boy of ours you
know our black Sam, Alice? I forget what he had been doing;
but Starks took him so by the rims of the ears and danced
him up and down upon the floor."
"But didn't that hurt him?"
"Hurt him! I guess it did, he meant it should. He tied me
under the table once. Sometime, when he wanted to punish two
boys at a time, he would set them to spit in each other's
faces."
"Oh! don't tell me about him!" cried Ellen, with a face of
horror: "I don't like to hear it."
Jenny laughed; and just then the door opened, and Mr. Van
Brunt and the old news-carrier came in.
He was a venerable, mild-looking man, with thin hair as white
as snow. He wore a long snuff-coloured coat and a broad-
brimmed hat, the sides of which were oddly looped up to the
crown, with twine; his tin horn or trumpet was in his hand.
His saddle-bags were on Mr. Van Brunt's' arm. As soon as she
saw him, Ellen was fevered with the notion that perhaps he had
something for her; and she forgot everything else. It would
seem that the rest of the company had the same hope, for they
crowded round him, shouting out welcomes, and questions, and
inquiries for letters all in a breath.
"Softly softly," said the old man, sitting down, slowly;
"not all at once; I can't attend to you all at once; one at
a time one at a time."
"Don't attend to 'em at all till you're ready," said Miss
Fortune "let 'em wait." And she handed him a glass of cider.
He drank it off at a breath, smacking his lips as he gave back
the glass to her hand, and exclaiming, "That's prime!" Then
taking up his saddle-bags from the floor, he began slowly to
undo the fastenings.
"You are going to our house to-night, ain't you, Father
Swaim?" said Jenny.
That's where I _was_ going," said the old man "I _was_ agoing to
stop with your father, Miss Jenny; but since I've got into
farmer Van Brunt's hands, I don't know any more what's going
to become of me; and after that glass of cider, I don't much
care! Now let's see let's see 'Miss Jenny Hitchcock,'
here's something for you. I should like very much to know
what's inside of that letter there's a blue seal to it. Ah,
young folks! young folks!
Jenny received her letter amidst a great deal of laughing and
joking, and seemed herself quite as much amused as anybody.
" 'Jedediah B. Lawson' there's for your father, Miss Mimy;
that saves me a long tramp if you've twenty-one cents in
your pocket, that is; if you han't, I shall be obleeged to
tramp after that. Here's something for 'most all of you, I'm
thinking. 'Miss Cecilia Dennison' your fair hands how's
the squire? rheumatism, eh? I think I'm a younger man now
than your father, Cecilly; and yet I must ha' seen a good many
years more than Squire Dennison; I must, surely. 'Miss
Fortune Emerson' that's for you; a double letter, Maam."
Ellen with a beating heart had pressed nearer and nearer to
the old man, till she stood close by his right hand, and could
see every letter as he handed it out. A spot of deepening red
was on each cheek as her eye eagerly scanned letter after
letter; it spread to a sudden flush when the last name was
read. Alice watched in some anxiety her keen look as it
followed the letter from the old man's hand to her aunt's, and
thence to the pocket, where Miss Fortune coolly bestowed it.
Ellen could not stand this; she sprang forward across the
circle.
"Aunt Fortune, there's a letter inside of that for me won't
you give it to me? won't you give it to me?" she repeated,
trembling.
Her aunt did not notice her by so much as a look; she turned
away and began talking to some one else. The red had left
Ellen's face when Alice could see it again it was livid and
spotted from stifled passion. She stood in a kind of maze. But
as her eye caught Alice's anxious and sorrowful look, she
covered her face with her hands, and as quick as possible made
her escape out of the room.
For some minutes Alice heard none of the hubbub around her.
Then came a knock at the door, and the voice of Thomas Grimes
saying to Mr. Van Brunt that Miss Humphreys' horse was there.
"Mr. Swaim," said Alice, rising, "I don't like to leave you
with these gay friends of ours; you'll stand no chance of rest
with them to-night. Will you ride home with me?"
Many of the party began to beg Alice would stay to supper, but
she said her father would be uneasy. The old news-carrier
concluded to go with her, for, he said, "there was a pint he
wanted to mention to Parson Humphreys that he had forgotten to
bring for'ard when they were talking on that 'ere subject two
months ago." So Nancy brought her things from the next room,
and helped her on with them, and looked pleased, as well she
might, at the smile and kind words with which she was
rewarded. Alice lingered at her leave-taking, hoping to see
Ellen but it was not till the last moment that Ellen came
in. She did not say a word, but the two little arms were put
around Alice's neck, and held her with a long, close
earnestness, which did not pass from her mind all the evening
afterwards.
When she was gone, the company sat down again to business; and
apple-paring went on more steadily than ever for a while, till
the bottom of the barrels was seen, and the last basketful of
apples was duly emptied. Then there was a general shout; the
kitchen was quickly cleared, and everybody's face brightened,
as much as to say, "Now for fun!" While Ellen and Nancy, and
Miss Fortune and Mrs. Van Brunt were running all ways with
trays, pans, baskets, knives, and buckets, the fun began by
Mr. Juniper Hitchcock's whistling in his dog, and setting him
to do various feats for the amusement of the company. There
followed such a rushing, leaping, barking, laughing, and
scolding on the part of the dog and his admirers, that the
room was in an uproar. He jumped over a stick; he got into a
chair, and sat up on two legs; he kissed the ladies' hands; he
suffered an apple-paring to be laid across his nose, then
threw it up with a jerk and caught it in his mouth. Nothing
very remarkable, certainly, but, as Miss Fortune observed to
somebody, "if he had been the learned pig, there couldn't ha'
been more fuss made over him."
Ellen stood looking on, smiling partly at the dog and his
master, and partly at the antics of the company. Presently Mr.
Van Brunt, bending down to her, said
"What is the matter with your eyes?"
"Nothing," said Ellen, starting "at least nothing that's any
matter, I mean."
"Come here," said he, drawing her on one side; "tell me all
about it what is the matter?"
"Never mind please don't ask me, Mr. Van Brunt, it's nothing
I ought to tell you it isn't any matter."
But her eyes were full again, and he still held her fast
doubtfully.
"_I'll_ tell you about it, Mr. Van Brunt," said Nancy, as she
came past them "you let her go, and I'll tell you by-and-
by."
And Ellen tried in vain afterwards to make her promise she
would not.
"Come, June," said Miss Jenny, "we have got enough of you and
Jumper turn him out; we are going to have the cat now. Come!
Puss, puss in the corner! Go off in t'other room, will you,
everybody that don't want to play. Puss, puss!"
Now the fun began in good earnest, and but few minutes had
passed before Ellen was laughing with all her heart, as if she
never had had anything to cry for in her life. After "puss,
puss in the corner" came "blind-man's-buff;" and this was
played with great spirit, the two most distinguished being
Nancy and Dan Dennison, though Miss Fortune played admirably
well. Ellen had seen Nancy play before; but she forgot her own
part of the game in sheer amazement at the way Mr. Dennison
managed his long body, which seemed to go where there was no
room for it, and vanish into air just when the grasp of some
grasping "blind man" was ready to fasten upon him. And when he
was blinded, he seemed to know by instinct where the walls
were, and keeping clear of them, he would swoop like a hawk
from one end of the room to the other, pouncing upon the
unlucky people who could by no means get out of the way fast
enough. When this had lasted awhile, there was a general call
for "the fox and the goose," and Miss Fortune was pitched upon
for the latter, she having in the other game showed herself
capable of good generalship. But who for the fox? Mr. Van
Brunt?
"Not I," said Mr. Van Brunt "there ain't nothing of the fox
about me; Miss Fortune would beat me all hollow."
"Who then, farmer?" said Bill Huff; "come! who is the fox?
Will I do?"
"Not you, Bill; the goose 'ud be too much for you."
There was a general shout, and cries of "Who then? who then?"
"Dan Dennison," said Mr. Van Brunt. "Now look out for a sharp
fight."
Amidst a great deal of laughing and confusion, the line was
formed, each person taking hold of a handkerchief or band
passed round the waist of the person before him, except when
the women held by each other's skirts. There were ranged
according to height, the tallest being next their leader, the
"goose." Mr. Van Brunt and the elder ladies, and two or three
more, chose to be lookers-on, and took post outside the door.
Mr. Dennison began by taking off his coat, to give himself
more freedom in his movements; for his business was to catch
the train of the goose, one by one, as each in turn became the
hindmost; while _her_ object was to baffle him and keep her
family together, meeting him with outspread arms at every rush
he made to seize one of her brood; while the long train behind
her, following her quick movements, and swaying from side to
side to get out of the reach of the furious fox, was sometimes
in the shape of the letter C, and sometimes in that of the
letter S, and sometimes looked like a long snake with a
curling tail. Loud was the laughter, shrill the shrieks, as
the fox drove them hither and thither, and seemed to be in all
parts of the room at once. He was a cunning fox that, as well
as a bold one. Sometimes, when they thought him quite safe,
held at bay by the goose, he dived under or leaped over her
outstretched arms, and _almost_ snatched hold of little Ellen,
who being the least, was the last one of the party. But Ellen
played very well, and just escaped him two or three times,
till he declared she gave him so much trouble, that when he
caught her he would "kiss her the worst kind." Ellen played
none the worse for that; however she was caught at last, and
kissed, too; there was no help for it, so she bore it as well
as she could. Then she watched and laughed till the tears ran
down her cheeks, to see how the fox and the goose dodged each
other, what tricks were played, and how the long train pulled
each other about. At length Nancy was caught, and then Jenny
Hitchcock, and then Cecilia Dennison, and then Jane Huff, and
so on, till at last the fox and the goose had a long struggle
for Mimy Lawson, which would never have come to an end if Mimy
had not gone over to the enemy.
There was a general pause. The hot and tired company were
seated around the room, panting and fanning themselves with
their pocket-handkerchiefs, and speaking broken sentences;
glad to rest even from laughing. Miss Fortune had thrown
herself down on a seat close by Ellen, when Nancy came up and
softly asked, "Is it time to beat the eggs now?" Miss Fortune
nodded, and then drew her close to receive a long, low whisper
in her ear, at the end of which Nancy ran off.
"Is there anything _I_ can do, Aunt Fortune?" said Ellen, so
gently and timidly, that it ought to have won a kind answer.
"Yes," said her aunt, "you may go and put yourself to bed;
it's high time, long ago." And looking round as she moved off,
she added, "Go!" with a little nod that as much as said, "I am
in earnest."
Ellen's heart throbbed she stood doubtful. One word to Mr.
Van Brunt, and she need not go that she knew. But as surely,
too, that word would make trouble and do harm. And then she
remembered, "A charge to keep I have!" She turned quick, and
quitted the room.
Ellen sat down on the first stair she came to, for her bosom
was heaving up and down, and she was determined not to cry.
The sounds of talking and laughing came to her from the
parlour, and there at her side stood the covered-up supper;
for a few minutes it was hard to keep her resolve. The thick
breath came and went very fast. Through the fanlights of the
hall door, opposite to which she was sitting, the bright
moonlight streamed in; and presently, as Ellen quieted, it
seemed to her fancy, like a gentle messenger from its Maker
bidding his child remember Him; and then came up some words
in her memory that her mother's lips had fastened there long
ago "I love them that love me, and they that seek me early
shall find me." She remembered her mother had told her it is
Jesus who says this. Her lost pleasure was well nigh
forgotten; and yet, as she sat gazing into the moonlight,
Ellen's eyes were gathering tears very fast.
"Well, I _am_ seeking Him," she thought "can it be that he
loves me! Oh, I'm so glad!"
And they were glad tears that little Ellen wiped away as she
went upstairs, for it was too cold to sit there long, if the
moon was ever so bright.
She had her hand on the latch of the door, when her
grandmother called out from the other room to know who was
there.
"It's I, grandma."
"Ain't somebody there? Come in here who is it?"
"It's I, Grandma," said Ellen, coming to the door.
"Come in here, deary," said the old woman, in a lower tone
"what is it all? what's the matter? who's down stairs?"
"It's a bee, Grandma; there's nothing the matter."
"A bee! who's been stung? what's all the noise about?"
" 'T isn't that kind of bee, Grandma; don't you know? there's
a parcel of people that came to pare apples, and they've been
playing games in the parlour that's all."
"Paring apples, eh? Is there company below?"
"Yes, Maam a whole parcel of people."
"Dear me!" said the old lady, "I oughtn't to ha' been abed!
Why han't Fortune told me? I'll get right up. Ellen, you go in
that fur closet and bring me my paddysoy, that hangs there,
and then help me on with my things I'll get right up. Dear
me! what was Fortune thinking about?"
The moonlight served very well instead of candles. After twice
bringing the wrong dresses, Ellen at last hit upon the
"paddysoy," which the old lady knew immediately by the touch.
In haste, and not without some fear and trembling on Ellen's
part, she was arrayed in it; her best cap put on, not over
hair in the best order, Ellen feared, but the old lady would
not stay to have it made better; Ellen took care of her down
the stairs, and after opening the door for her went back to
her room.
A little while had passed, and Ellen was just tying her
nightcap strings, and ready to go peacefully to sleep, when
Nancy burst in.
"Ellen! Hurry! you must come right downstairs."
"Downstairs! why, I am just ready to go to bed."
"No matter you must come right away down. There's Mr. Van
Brunt says he won't begin supper till you come."
"But does Aunt Fortune want me too?"
"Yes, I tell you! and the quicker you come the better she'll
be pleased. She sent me after you in all sorts of a hurry. She
said she didn't know where you was!"
"Said she didn't know where I was! Why, she told me herself,"
Ellen began, and stopped short.
"Of course!" said Nancy; "don't you think I know that? But _he_
don't, and if you want to plague her, you'll just tell him.
Now come, and be quick, will you? The supper's splendid."
Ellen lost the first view of the table, for everything had
begun to be pulled to pieces before she came in. The company
were all crowded round the table, eating and talking, and
helping themselves; and ham and bread and butter, pumpkin-pies
and mince-pies and apple-pies, cake of various kinds, and
glasses of egg-nogg and cider, were in everybody's hands. One
dish in the middle of the big table had won the praise of
every tongue; nobody could guess, and many asked how it was
made, but Miss Fortune kept a satisfied silence, pleased to
see the constant stream of comers to the big dish, till it was
near empty. Just then, Mr. Van Brunt, seeing Ellen had
nothing, gathered up all that was left, and gave it to her.
It was sweet, and cold, and rich. Ellen told her mother
afterwards it was the best thing she had ever tasted except
the ice-cream she once gave her in New York. She had taken,
however, but one spoonful, when her eye fell upon Nancy,
standing at the back of all the company, and forgotten. Nancy
had been upon her good behaviour all the evening, and it was a
singular proof of this that she had not pushed in and helped
herself among the first. Ellen's eye went once or twice from
her plate to Nancy, and then she crossed over and offered it
to her. It was eagerly taken, and, a little disappointed Ellen
stepped back again. But she soon forgot the disappointment.
"She'll know now that I don't bear her any grudge," she
thought.
"Han't you got nothing?" said Nancy, coming up presently;
"that wasn't your'n that you gave me was it?"
Ellen nodded, smilingly.
"Well, there ain't no more of it," said Nancy. "The bowl is
empty."
"I know it," said Ellen.
"Why, didn't you like it?"
"Yes very much."
"Why, you're a queer little fish," said Nancy. "What did you
get Mr. Van Brunt to let me in for?"
"How did you know I did?"
" 'Cause he told me. Say what did you do it for? Mr.
Dennison, won't you give Ellen a piece of cake or something?
Here take this," said Nancy, pouncing upon a glass of egg-
nog, which a gap in the company enabled her to reach; "I made
it more than half myself. Ain't it good?"
"Yes, very," said Ellen, smacking her lips; "what's in it?"
"Oh, plenty of good things. But what made you ask Mr. Van
Brunt to let me stop to-night? you didn't tell me did you
want me to stay?"
"Never mind," said Ellen; "don't ask me any questions."
"Yes, but I will though: and you've got to answer me. Why did
you? Come! do you like me? say!"
"I should like you, I dare say, if you would be different."
"Well, I don't care," said Nancy, after a little pause; "I
like _you_, though you're as queer as you can be. I don't care
whether you like me or not. Look here, Ellen, _that_ cake there
is the best I know it is, for I've tried 'em all. You know
I told Van Brunt that I would tell him what you were crying
about?"
"Yes, and I asked you not. Did you?"
Nancy nodded, being at the moment still further engaged in
"trying" the cake.
"I am sorry you did. What did he say?"
"He didn't say much to _me_ somebody else will hear of it, I
guess. He was mad about it, or I am mistaken. What makes you
sorry?"
"It will only do harm, and make Aunt Fortune angry."
"Well, that's just what I should like, if I were you. I can't
make you out."
"I'd a great deal rather have her like me," said Ellen. "Was
she vexed when Grandma came down?"
"I don't know, but she had to keep it to herself if she was;
everybody else was so glad, and Mr. Van Brunt made such a
fuss. Just look at the old lady, how pleased she is! I declare
if the folks ain't talking of going! Come, Ellen! now for the
cloaks! you and me'll finish our supper afterwards."
That, however, was not to be. Nancy was offered a ride home to
Mrs. Van Brunt's, and a lodging there. They were ready cloaked
and shawled, and Ellen was still hunting for Miss Janet's
things in the moonlit hall, when she heard Nancy close by, in
a lower tone than common, say
"Ellen, will you kiss me?"
Ellen dropped her armful of things, and, taking Nancy's hands,
gave her truly the kiss of peace.
When she went up to undress for the second time, she found on
her bed her letter! And with tears Ellen kneeled down and
gave earnest thanks for this blessing, and that she had been
able to gain Nancy's good-will.