"What did you do to make her say so?" said her friend, gravely.
"Only asked her for some books, Maam."
"Well, my dear, I see I am getting upon another of your troubles, and we haven't time for that now. By your own account, you have been much in fault yourself, and I trust you will find all things mend with your own mending. But now, there goes the sun! and you and I must follow his example."
The lake ceased to gleam, and the houses of the village were less plainly to be seen; still the mountain heads were as bright as ever. Gradually the shadows crept up their sides, while the gray of evening settled deeper and deeper upon the valley.
"There," said Ellen, "that's just what I was wondering at the other morning; only then the light shone upon the top of the mountains first, and walked down, and now it leaves the bottom first and walks up. I asked Mr. Van Brunt about it, and he could not tell me. That's another of my troubles; there's nobody that can tell me anything."
"Put me in mind of it to-morrow, and I'll try to make you understand it," said the lady. "But we must not tarry now. I see you are likely to find me work enough, Ellen."
"I'll not ask you a question, Maam, if you don't like it," said Ellen, earnestly.
"I do like, I do like," said the other. "I spoke laughingly, for I see you will be apt to ask me a good many. As many as you please, my dear."
"Thank you, Maam," said Ellen, as they ran down the hill; "they keep coming into my head all the while."
It was easier going down than coming up. They soon arrived at the place where Ellen had left the road to take the wood path.