It was very late next morning when they awoke, having slept rather heavily than well. They crawled out of bed, feeling stiff and sore in every limb, each confessing to more evil effects from their adventure than she had been aware of the evening before. All the rubbing and bathing and drinking that Mrs. Van Brunt had administered, had been too little to undo what wet and cold and fatigue had done. But Mrs. Van Brunt had set her breakfast-table with everything her house could furnish that was nice; a bountifully-spread board it was. Mr. Humphreys was there, too; and no bad feelings of two of the party could prevent that from being a most cheerful and pleasant meal. Even Mr. Humphreys and Mr. Van Brunt, two persons not usually given to many words, came out wonderfully on this occasion; gratitude and pleasure in the one, and generous feeling on the part of the other, untied their tongues; and Ellen looked from one to the other in some amazement, to see how agreeable they could be. Kindness and hospitality always kept Mrs. Van Brunt in full flow; and Alice, whatever she felt, exerted herself and supplied what was wanting everywhere, like the transparent glazing which painters use to spread over the dead colour of their pictures; unknown, it was she gave life and harmony to the whole. And Ellen, in her enjoyment of everything and everybody, forgot or despised aches and pains, and even whispered to Alice that coffee was making her well again.
But happy breakfasts must come to an end, and so did this, prolonged though it was. Immediately after, the party, whom circumstances had gathered for the first and probably the last time, scattered again: but the meeting had left pleasant effects on all minds. Mrs. Van Brunt was in general delight that she had entertained so many people she thought a great deal of, and particularly glad of the chance of showing her kind feelings towards two of the number. Mr. Humphreys remarked upon "that very sensible, good-hearted man, Mr. Van Brunt, towards whom he felt himself under great obligation." Mr. Van Brunt said "the minister warn't such a grum man as people called him;" and more-over said, "it was a good thing to have an education, and he had a notion to read more." As for Alice and Ellen, they went away full of kind feeling for every one, and much love to each other. This was true of them before; but their late troubles had drawn them closer together, and given them fresh occasion to value their friends.
Mr. Humphreys had brought the little one-horse sleigh for his daughter, and, soon after breakfast, Ellen saw it drive off with her. Mr. Van Brunt then harnessed his own and carried Ellen home. Ill though she felt, the poor child made an effort, and spent part of the morning in finishing the long letter to her mother, which had been on the stocks since Monday. The effort became painful towards the last: and the aching limbs and trembling hand of which she complained, were the first beginnings of a serious fit of illness. She went to bed that same afternoon, and did not leave it again for two weeks. Cold had taken violent hold of her system; fever set in, and ran high; and half the time little Ellen's wits were roving in delirium. Nothing, however, could be too much for Miss Fortune's energies; she was as much at home in a sick room as in a well one. She flew about with increased agility; was upstairs and downstairs twenty times in the course of a day, and kept all straight everywhere. Ellen's room was always the picture of neatness; the fire, the wood fire was taken care of; Miss Fortune seemed to know, by instinct, when it wanted a fresh supply, and to be on the spot by magic to give it. Ellen's medicines were dealt out in proper time; her gruels and drinks perfectly well made and arranged, with appetizing nicety, on a little table by the bedside, where she could reach them herself; and Miss Fortune was generally at hand when she was wanted. But, in spite of all this, there was something missing in that sick room there was a great want; and whenever the delirium was upon her, Ellen made no secret of it. She was never violent; but she moaned, sometimes impatiently, and sometimes plaintively, for her mother. It was a vexation to Miss Fortune to hear her. The name of her mother was all the time on her lips; if by chance her aunt's name came in, it was spoken in a way that generally sent her bouncing out of the room.
"Mamma," poor Ellen would say, "just lay your hand on my forehead, will you? it's so hot! Oh, do, Mamma! where are you? Do put your hand on my forehead, won't you? Oh, do speak to me! why don't you, Mamma? Oh, why don't she come to me?"
Once, when Ellen was uneasily calling in this fashion for her mother's hand, Miss Fortune softly laid her own upon the child's brow; but the quick sudden jerk of the head from under it told her how well Ellen knew the one from the other; and, little as she cared for Ellen, it was wormwood to her.
Miss Fortune was not without offers of help during this sick time. Mrs. Van Brunt, and afterwards Mrs. Vawse, asked leave to come and nurse Ellen; but Miss Fortune declared it was more plague than profit to her; and she couldn't be bothered with having strangers about. Mrs. Van Brunt she suffered, much against her will, to come for a day or two: at the end of that, Miss Fortune found means to get rid of her civilly. Mrs. Vawse she would not allow to stay an hour. The old lady got leave, however, to go up to the sick room for a few minutes. Ellen, who was then in a high fever, informed her that her mother was downstairs, and her aunt Fortune would not let her come up; she pleaded, with tears, that she might come, and entreated Mrs. Vawse to take her aunt away, and send her mother. Mrs. Vawse tried to soothe her. Miss Fortune grew impatient.
"What on earth's the use," said she, "of talking to a child that's out of her head? she can't hear reason; that's the way she gets into whenever the fever's on her. I have the pleasure of hearing that sort of thing all the time. Come away, Mrs. Vawse, and leave her; she can't be better any way than alone, and I am in the room every other thing she's just as well quiet. Nobody knows," said Miss Fortune, on her way down stairs "nobody knows the blessings of taking care of other people's children that han't tried it. I've tried it, to my heart's content."
Mrs. Vawse sighed, but departed in silence.
It was not when the fever was on her and delirium high that Ellen most felt the want she then so pitifully made known. There were other times when her head was aching, and, weary and weak, she lay still there oh, how she longed then for the dear wonted face, the old quiet smile that carried so much of comfort and assurance with it, the voice that was like heaven's music, the touch of that loved hand to which she had clung for so many years! She could scarcely bear to think of it, sometimes. In the still, wakeful hours of night, when the only sound to be heard was the heavy breathing of her aunt asleep on the floor by her side; and in the long, solitary day, when the only variety to be looked for was Miss Fortune's flitting in and out, and there came to be a sameness about that Ellen mourned her loss bitterly. Many and many were the silent tears that rolled down and wet her pillow; many a long- drawn sigh came from the very bottom of Ellen's heart: she was too weak and subdued now for violent weeping. She wondered sadly why Alice did not come to see her; it was another great grief added to the former. She never chose, however, to mention her name to her aunt. She kept her wonder and her sorrow to herself all the harder to bear for that. After two weeks Ellen began to mend, and then she became exceedingly weary of being alone and shut up to her room. It was a pleasure to have her Bible and hymn-book lying upon the bed, and a great comfort when she was able to look at a few words, but that was not very often, and she longed to see somebody, and hear something besides her aunt's dry questions and answers.
One afternoon Ellen was sitting, alone as usual, bolstered up in bed. Her little hymn-book was clasped in her hand; though not equal to reading, she felt the touch of it a solace to her. Half-dozing, half-waking, she had been perfectly quiet for some time, when the sudden and not very gentle opening of the room door caused her to start and open her eyes. They opened wider than usual, for, instead of her Aunt Fortune, it was the figure of Miss Nancy Vawse that presented itself. She came in briskly, and, shutting the door behind her, advanced to the bedside.