There were no dry eyes in the room. And when they arose, Mr. Humpreys, after giving his daughter the usual kiss for good night, gave one to Ellen too, which he had never done before, and then going to his son, and laying both hands on his shoulders, kissed his cheek also; then silently took his candle and went.
They lingered a little while after he was gone, standing round the fire as if loth to part, but in grave silence, each busy with his own thoughts. Alice's ended by fixing on her brother, for, laying her hand and her head carelessly on his shoulder, she said, "And so you have been well all this time, John?"
He turned his face towards her without speaking, but Ellen as well as his sister saw the look of love with which he answered her question, rather of endearment than inquiry; and from that minute Ellen's mind was made up as to the doubt which had troubled her. She went to bed quite satisfied that her new brother was a decided acquisition.
CHAPTER XXVII.
The jingling of sleigh-bells.
Before Ellen's eyes were open the next morning almost before she awoke the thought of the Christmas visit, the sleigh- ride, John Humphreys, and the weather, all rushed into her mind at once, and started her half up in the bed to look out of the window. Well frosted the panes of glass were, but at the corners and edges, unmistakeable bright gleams of light came in.
"Oh, Alice, it's beautiful!" exclaimed Ellen; "look how the sun is shining! and 'tisn't very cold. Are we going to-day?"
"I don't know yet, Ellie, but we shall know very soon. We'll settle that at breakfast."
At breakfast it was settled. They were to go, and set off directly. Mr. Humphreys could not go with them, because he had promised to bury little John Dolan; the priest had declared he would have nothing to do with it; and the poor mother had applied to Mr. Humphreys, as being the clergyman her child had most trusted and loved to hear. It seemed that little John had pursuaded her out of half her prejudices by his affectionate talk and blameless behaviour during some time past. Mr. Humphreys, therefore, must stay at home that day. He promised, however, to follow them the next, and would by no means permit them to wait for him. He said the day was fine, and they must improve it; and he should be pleased to have them with their friends as long as possible.
So the little travelling-bag was stuffed, with more things than it seemed possible to get into it. Among the rest, Ellen brought her little red Bible, which Alice decided should go in John's pocket; the little carpet-bag could not take it. Ellen was afraid it never would be locked. By dint of much pushing and crowding, however, locked it was; and they made themselves ready. Over Ellen's merino dress and coat went an old fur tippet; a little shawl was tied round her neck; her feet were cased in a pair of warm moccassins, which, belonging to Margery, were of course a world too big for her, but "anything but cold," as their owner said. Her nice blue hood would protect her head well, and Alice gave her a green veil to save her eyes from the glare of the snow. When Ellen shuffled out of Alice's room in this trim, John gave her one of his grave looks, and saying she looked like Mother Bunch, begged to know how she expected to get to the sleigh; he said she would want a footman indeed to wait upon her, to pick up her slippers, if she went in that fashion. However, he ended by picking her up, carried her, and set her down safely in the sleigh. Alice followed, and in another minute they were off.