"Yes who's that? what do you want?"
"I'll fix your hair if you'll let me," said Ellen.
"You? I don't believe you can."
"Oh, yes, I can; I used to do Mamma's very often; I am not afraid, if you'll trust me."
"Well, thank you, I don't care if you try, then," said Margaret, seating herself; "it won't do any harm, at any rate; and I want to be downstairs before anybody gets here; I think it's half the fun to see them come in. Bless me! you're dressed and all ready."
Margaret's hair was in long, thick curls; it was not a trifling matter to dress them. Ellen plodded through it patiently and faithfully, taking great pains, and doing the work well, and then went back to Alice. Margaret's thanks, not very gracefully given, would have been a poor reward for the loss of three-quarters of an hour of pleasure. But Ellen was very happy in having done right. It was no longer time to read; they must go downstairs.
The New Year's party was a nondescript young and old together; a goodly number of both were gathered from Randolph and the neighbouring country. There were games for the young, dancing for the gay, and a superb supper for all; and the big, bright rooms were full of bright faces. It was a very happy evening to Ellen. For a good part of it, Mr. Marshman took possession of her, or kept her near him; and his extreme kindness would alone have made the evening pass pleasantly; she was sure he was her firm friend again.
In the course of the evening, Mrs. Chauncey found occasion to ask her about her journey up the river, without at all mentioning Margaret, or what she had said. Ellen answered that she had come with Mrs. Dunscombe and her daughter.
"Did you have a pleasant time?" asked Mrs. Chauncey.
"Why, no, Ma'am." Said Ellen "I don't know it was partly pleasant, and partly unpleasant."