Ellen looked doubtfully at the black horse and his rider, and patting the Brownie's neck, observed with great satisfaction that he was very good.
John had been riding very slowly on Ellen's account; they now mended their pace. He saw, however, that she still looked miserably, and exerted himself to turn her thoughts from everything disagreeable. Much to her amusement, he rode round her two or three times, to view her horse and show her his own; commended the Brownie; praised her bridle hand; corrected several things about her riding; and by degrees engaged her in a very animated conversation. Ellen roused up; the colour came back to her cheeks; and when they reached home, and rode round to the glass door, she looked almost like herself.
She sprang off as usual without waiting for any help. John scarce saw that she had done so, when Alice's cry of joy brought him to the door, and from that together they went in to their father's study. Ellen was left alone on the lawn. Something was the matter; for she stood with swimming eyes and a trembling lip, rubbing her stirrup, which really needed no polishing, and forgetting the tired horses, which would have had her sympathy at any other time. What was the matter? Only that Mr. John had forgotten the kiss he always gave her on going or coming. Ellen was jealous of it as a pledge of sistership, and could not want it; and though she tried as hard as she could to get her face in order, so that she might go in and meet them, somehow it seemed to take a great while. She was still busy with her stirrup, when she suddenly felt two hands on her shoulders, and looking up, received the very kiss the want of which she had been lamenting. But John saw the tears in her eyes, and asked her, she thought with somewhat a comical look, what the matter was. Ellen was ashamed to tell, but he had her there by the shoulders, and besides, whatever that eye demanded, she never knew how to keep back; so with some difficulty she told him.
"You are very foolish child, Ellie," said he, gently, and kissing her again. "Run in out of the sun, while I see to the horses."
Ellen ran in, and told her long story to Alice; and then, feeling very weary and weak, she sat on the sofa, and lay resting in her arms in a state of the most entire and unruffled happiness. Alice, however, after a while, transferred her to bed, thinking, with good reason, that a long sleep would be the best thing for her.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
Halcyon days.
When Ellen came out of Alice's room again, it was late in the afternoon. The sun was so low that the shadow of the house had crossed the narrow lawn and mounted up near to the top of the trees; but on them he was still shining brightly, and on the broad landscape beyond, which lay open to view through the gap in the trees. The glass door was open; the sweet summer air and the sound of birds and insects and fluttering leaves floated into the room, making the stillness musical. On the threshold pussy sat crouched, with his forefeet doubled under his breast, watching, with intense gravity, the operations of Margery, who was setting the table on the lawn, just before his eyes. Alice was paring peaches.
"Oh, we are going to have tea out of doors, aren't we!" said Ellen. "I'm very glad. What a lovely evening! isn't it? Just look at pussy, will you, Alice? don't you believe he knows what Margery is doing? Why didn't you call me to go along with you after peaches?"
"I thought you were doing the very best thing you possibly could, Ellie, my dear. How do you do?"