"So many things that trouble you, Ellen?"
"Yes, Maam."
"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, Maam!" 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.