“She don't know about anything, Ellen,” replied Andrew, wretchedly.
“I know she doesn't know about your getting thrown out of work—but about the bank?”
“No, Ellen.”
Ellen rose. “You stay here, where it is cool, till I ring the dinner-bell, father,” she said.
“I don't want any dinner, child.”
“Yes, you do, father. If you don't eat your dinner you will be sick. You come when the bell rings.”
Andrew knew that he should obey, as he saw the girl's light dress disappear among the trees.
Ellen went back to the pump, and carried her pitcher of water into the house. Her mother met her at the door. “Where have you been all this time, Ellen Brewster?” she asked, in a high voice. “Everything is getting as cold as a stone.”
Ellen caught her mother's arm and drew her into the kitchen, and closed the door. Fanny turned pale as death and looked at her. “Well, what has happened now?” she said. “Is your father killed?”
“No,” said Ellen, “but he is out of work, and he can't get a job at Lloyd's, and he took all that money out of the savings-bank a long time ago, and put it into that gold-mine that Uncle Jim lost in.”