"Supper's just ready, Mr. Van Brunt," said the mistress of the house.
"Can't stay, Maam it's so late; must hurry home." And he closed the door behind him.
"What made you so late?" asked Miss Fortune of Ellen.
"I don't know, Maam I believe Mr. Van Brunt said the blacksmith had kept him."
Miss Fortune bustled about a few minutes in silence, setting some things on the table, and filling the tea-pot.
"Come," she said to Ellen, "take off your coat and come to the table. You must be hungry by this time. It's a good while since you had your dinner, ain't it? Come, mother."
The old lady rose, and Miss Fortune, taking her chair, set it by the side of the table, next the fire. Ellen was opposite to her, and now, for the first time, the old lady seemed to know that she was in the room. She looked at her very attentively, but with an expressionless gaze which Ellen did not like to meet, though otherwise her face was calm and pleasant.
"Who is that?" inquired the old lady presently of Miss
Fortune, in a half whisper.
"That's Morgan's daughter," was the answer.
"Morgan's daughter! Has Morgan a daughter?"