Ellen laughed.
"My dear Ellen," said the lady, changing her tone, "do you know you please me very much? For one person that shows herself well-bred in this matter, there are a thousand, I think, that ask impertinent questions. I am very glad you are an exception to the common rule. But, dear Ellen, I am quite willing you should know my name it is Alice Humphreys. Now, kiss me again, and run home; it is quite, quite time; I have kept you too late. Good night, my dear! Tell your aunt I beg she will allow you to take tea with me to-morrow."
They parted; and Ellen hastened homewards, urged by the rapidly-growing dusk of the evening. She trod the green turf with a step lighter and quicker than it had been a few hours before, and she regained her home in much less time than it had taken her to come from thence to the mountain. Lights were in the kitchen, and the table set; but though weary and faint, she was willing to forego her supper rather than meet her aunt just then, so she stole quietly up to her room. She did not forget her friend's advice. She had no light; she could not read; but Ellen did pray. She did carry all her heart- sickness, her wants, and her woes, to that Friend whose ear is always open to hear the cry of those who call upon Him in truth; and then, relieved, refreshed, almost healed, she went to bed and slept sweetly.
CHAPTER XVI.
Counsel, Cakes, and Captain Parry.
Early next morning Ellen awoke with a sense that something pleasant had happened. Then the joyful reality darted into her mind, and jumping out of bed, she set about her morning work with a better heart than she had been able to bring to it for many a long day. When she had finished, she went to the window. She had found out how to keep it open now, by means of a big nail stuck in a hole under the sash. It was very early, and in the perfect stillness, the soft gurgle of the little brook came distinctly to her ear. Ellen leaned her arms on the window-sill, and tasted the morning air; almost wondering at its sweetness, and at the loveliness of field and sky, and the bright eastern horizon. For days and days all had looked dark and sad.
There were two reasons for the change. In the first place, Ellen had made up her mind to go straight on in the path of duty; in the second place, she had found a friend. Her little heart bounded with delight and swelled with thankfulness at the thought of Alice Humphreys. She was once more at peace with herself, and had even some notion of being by-and-by at peace with her aunt; though a sad twinge came over her whenever she thought of her mother's letter.
"But there is only one way for me," she thought; "I'll do as that dear Miss Humphreys told me it's good and early, and I shall have a fine time before breakfast yet to myself. And I'll get up so every morning and have it! that'll be the very best plan I can hit upon."
As she thought this, she drew forth her Bible from its place at the bottom of her trunk; and opening it at hazard, she began to read the l8th chapter of Matthew. Some of it she did not quite understand; but she paused with pleasure at the 14th verse. "That means me," she thought. The 21st and 22d verses struck her a good deal, but when she came to the last she was almost startled.
"There it is again!" she said. "That is exactly what that gentleman said to me. I thought I was forgiven, but how can I be for I feel I have not forgiven Aunt Fortune."