"It is just about this time a year ago," said she, "that Aunt
Fortune was getting well of her long fit of sickness."
"Yes!" said Mr. Van Brunt, with a very profound air; "something is always happening most years."
Ellen did not know what to make of this philosophical remark.
"I am very glad nothing is happening this year," said she; "I think it is a great deal pleasanter to have things go on quietly."
"Oh, something might happen without hindering things going on quietly, I s'pose mightn't it?"
"I don't know," said Ellen, wonderingly. "Why, Mr. Van Brunt, what is going to happen?"
"I declare," said he, half-laughing, "you're as 'cute as a razor; I didn't say there was anything going to happen, did I?"
"But is there?" said Ellen.
"Han't your aunt said nothing to you about it?"
"Why, no," said Ellen "she never tells me anything; what is it?"