Laying aside her book, Ellen kneeled down; but this one thought so pressed upon her mind, that she could think of scarce anything else; and her prayer this morning was an urgent and repeated petition that she might be enabled "from her heart" to forgive her Aunt Fortune "all her trespasses." Poor Ellen! she felt it was very hard work. At the very minute she was striving to feel at peace with her aunt, one grievance after another would start up to remembrance, and she knew the feelings that met them were far enough from the spirit of forgiveness. In the midst of this she was called down. She rose with tears in her eyes, and "what shall I do?" in her heart. Bowing her head once more, she earnestly prayed that if she could not yet feel right towards her aunt, she might be kept at least from acting or speaking wrong. Poor Ellen! In the heart is the spring of action; and she found it so this morning.
Her aunt and Mr. Van Brunt were already at the table. Ellen took her place in silence, for one look at her aunt's face told her that no "good morning" would be accepted. Miss Fortune was in a particularly bad humour, owing, among other things, to Mr. Van Brunt's having refused to eat his breakfast unless Ellen were called. An unlucky piece of kindness. She neither spoke to Ellen nor looked at her; Mr. Van Brunt did what in him lay to make amends. He helped her very carefully to the cold pork and potatoes, and handed her the well-piled platter of griddle-cakes.
"Here's the first buckwheats of the season," said he, "and I told Miss Fortune I warn't agoing to eat one on 'em if you didn't come down to enjoy 'em along with us. Take two take two! you want 'em to keep each other hot."
Ellen's look and smile thanked him, as, following his advice, she covered one generous "buckwheat" with another as ample.
"That's the thing! Now, here's some prime maple. You like 'em,
I guess, don't you?"
"I don't know, yet I have never seen any," said Ellen.
"Never seen buckwheats! why, they're most as good as my mother's splitters. Buckwheat cakes and maple molasses that's food fit for a king, I think when they're good; and Miss Fortune's are always first-rate."
Miss Fortune did not relent at all at this compliment.
"What makes you so white, this morning?" Mr. Van Brunt presently went on; "you ain't well, be you?"
"Yes," said Ellen, doubtfully "I'm well"