"But, Mamma," said Ellen, her eyes filling instantly, "you know he is not my friend in the same way that he is yours." And, hiding her face again, she added, "Oh, I wish he was!"
"You know the way to make him so, Ellen. He is willing; it only rests with you. Oh, my child, my child! if losing your mother might be the means of finding you that better Friend, I should be quite willing and glad to go for ever."
There was silence, only broken by Ellen's sobs. Mrs. Montgomery's voice had trembled, and her face was now covered with her hands; but she was not weeping; she was seeking a better relief where it had long been her habit to seek and find it. Both resumed their usual composure, and the employments which had been broken off; but neither chose to renew the conversation. Dinner, sleeping, and company prevented their having another opportunity during the rest of the day.
But when evening came, they were again left to themselves. Captain Montgomery was away, which indeed was the case most of the time; friends had taken their departure; the curtains were down, the lamp lit, the little room looked cozy and comfortable; the servant had brought the tea-things, and withdrawn, and the mother and daughter were happily alone. Mrs. Montgomery knew that such occasions were numbered, and fast drawing to an end, and she felt each one to be very precious. She now lay on her couch, with her face partially shaded, and her eyes fixed upon her little daughter, who was now preparing the tea. She watched her, with thoughts and feelings not to be spoken, as the little figure went back and forward between the table and the fire, and the light shining full upon her face, showed that Ellen's whole soul was in her beloved duty. Tears would fall as she looked, and were not wiped away; but when Ellen, having finished her work, brought with a satisfied face the little tray of tea and toast to her mother, there was no longer any sign of them left; Mrs. Montgomery arose with her usual kind smile, to show her gratitude by honouring, as far as possible, what Ellen had provided.
"You have more appetite to-night, Mamma."
"I am very glad, daughter," replied her mother, "to see that you have made up your mind to bear patiently this evil that has come upon us. I am glad for your sake, and I am glad for mine; and I am glad, too, because we have a great deal to do, and no time to lose in doing it."
"What, have we so much to do, Mamma?" said Ellen.
"Oh, many things," said her mother, "you will see. But now, Ellen, if there is anything you wish to talk to me about, any question you want to ask, anything you would like particularly to have, or to have done for you I want you to tell it me as soon as possible, now, while we can attend to it for by-and- by perhaps we shall be hurried."
"Mamma," said Ellen, with brightening eyes, "there is one thing I have thought of that I should like to have shall I tell it you now?"
"Yes."