The next day they left Ventnor. Ellen Chauncey was very sorry to lose her new friend, and begged she would come again "as soon as she could." All the family said the same. Mr. Marshman told her she must give him a large place in her heart, or he should be jealous of her "strange friend;" and Alice was charged to bring her whenever she came to see them.
The drive back to Carra-carra was scarcely less pleasant than the drive out had been; and home, Ellen said, looked lovely; that is, Alice's home, which she began to think more her own than any other. The pleasure of the past ten days, though great, had not been unmixed; the week that followed was one of perfect enjoyment. In Mr. Humphreys' household there was an atmosphere of peace and purity, that even a child could feel, and in which such a child as Ellen throve exceedingly. The drawing lessons went on with great success; other lessons were begun; there were fine, long walks, and charming sleigh-rides, and more than one visit to Mrs. Vawse; and what Ellen, perhaps, liked the best of all, the long evenings of conversation, and reading aloud, and bright fire-lights, and brighter sympathy, and intelligence, and affection. That week did them all good, and no one more than Ellen.
It was a little hard to go back to Miss Fortune's, and begin her old life there. She went on the evening of the day John had departed. They were at supper.
"Well!" said Miss Fortune, as Ellen entered, "have you got enough of visiting? I should be ashamed to go where I wasn't wanted, for my part."
"I haven't, Aunt Fortune," said Ellen.
"She's been nowhere but what's done her good," said Mr. Van
Brunt; "she's reely growed handsome since she's been away."
"Grown a fiddlestick!" said Miss Fortune.
"She couldn't grow handsomer than she was before," said the old grandmother, hugging and kissing her little grand-daughter with great delight; "the sweetest posie in the garden she always was!"
Mr. Van Brunt looked as if he entirely agreed with the old lady. That, while it made some amends for Miss Fortune's dryness, perhaps increased it. She remarked, that "she thanked Heaven she could always make herself contented at home;" which Ellen could not help thinking was a happiness for the rest of the world.
In the matter of the collar, it was hard to say whether the giver or receiver had the most satisfaction. Ellen had begged him not to speak of it to her aunt; and accordingly, one Sunday, when he came there with it on, both he and she were in a state of exquisite delight. Miss Fortune's attention was at last aroused; she made a particular review of him, and ended it by declaring, that "he looked uncommonly dandified, but she could not make out what he had done to himself;" a remark which transported Mr. Van Brunt and Ellen beyond all bounds of prudence.