Mr. Van Brunt gave a long whistle as his eye surveyed the tokens of Miss Nancy's mischief-making, over and through which both she and himself had been chasing at full speed, making the state of matters rather worse than it was before.
"I do say," said he, slowly, "that is too bad. I'd fix them up again for you, Miss Ellen, if I knew how; but my hands are a'most as clumsy as my feet, and I see the marks of them there; it's too bad, I declare; I didn't know what I was going on."
"Never mind, Mr. Van Brunt," said Ellen, "I don't mind what you have done, a bit. I'm so glad to see you!"
She put out her little hand to him as she spoke. He took it in his own, silently; but, though he said and showed nothing of it, Ellen's look and tone of affection thrilled his heart with pleasure.
"How do you do?" said he, kindly.
"I'm a great deal better," said Ellen. "Sit down, won't you,
Mr. Van Brunt? I want to see you a little."
Horses wouldn't have drawn him away after that. He sat down.
"Ain't you going to be up again some of these days?" said he.
"Oh yes, I hope so," said Ellen, sighing; "I am very tired of lying here."
He looked round the room; got up and mended the fire, then came and sat down again.