"Nothing. I had it just on the end of my tongue to say, 'It's no such thing;' but I didn't say it."
"I am glad you were so wise. Dear Ellen, that is nothing to be vexed about. If it were true, indeed, you might be sorry. I trust Miss Fortune is mistaken. I shall try and find some way to make her change her mind. I am glad you told me."
"I am so glad you are come, dear Alice!" said Ellen again. "I wish I could have you always!" And the long, very close pressure of her two arms about her friend, said as much. There was a long pause. The cheek of Alice rested on Ellen's head, which nestled against her; both were busily thinking, but neither spoke; and the cricket chirped, and the flames crackled, without being listened to.
"Miss Alice," said Ellen, after a long time "I wish you would talk over a hymn with me."
"How do you mean, my dear?" said Alice, rousing herself.
"I mean, read it over and explain it. Mamma used to do it sometimes. I have been thinking a great deal about her to-day; and I think I'm very different from what I ought to be. I wish you would talk to me, and make me better, Miss Alice."
Alice pressed an earnest kiss upon the tearful little face that was uplifted to her, and presently said
"I am afraid I shall be a poor substitute for your mother,
Ellen. What hymn shall we take?"
"Any one this one, if you like. Mamma likes it very much. I was looking it over to-day:
'A charge to keep I have,
A God to glorify;
A never-dying soul to save
And fit it for the sky.' "