"Miss Ellen, dear," she said, softly, "here is that Nancy girl wanting to speak with you will you please to see her?"
Ellen eagerly desired Margery to let her in; by no means displeased to have some interruption to the sorrowful thoughts she could not banish. She received Nancy very kindly.
"Well, I declare, Ellen!" said that young lady, whose wandering eye was upon everything but Ellen herself "ain't you as fine as a fiddle! I guess you never touch your fingers to a file now-a-days do you?"
"A file!" said Ellen.
"You han't forgot what it means, I s'pose," said Nancy, somewhat scornfully " 'cause if you think I'm a-going to swallow that, you're mistaken. I've seen you file off tables down yonder a few times, han't I?"
"Oh, I remember now," said Ellen, smiling; "it is so long since I heard the word that I didn't know what you meant. Margery calls it a dish-cloth, or a floor-cloth, or something else."
"Well, you don't touch one now-a-days, do you?"
"No," said Ellen, "I have other things to do."
"Well, I guess you have. You've got enough of books now, for once, han't you? What a lot! I say, Ellen, have you got to read all these?"
"I hope so, in time," said Ellen, smiling. "Why haven't you been to see me before?"