“Her mother was. We won’t carry on a feud, Ellen. You’ll see that her sputtering doesn’t amount to anything. Like as not the next time you see her she’ll be stroking Wipers and calling him a nice kitty. I know.” The next Sunday Ellen discovered that her cousin was right, for the lady smiled and bowed most graciously as they all came out of church. Ellen was arrayed in her newly dyed garments and felt very respectable. The black was very becoming to her fair skin and rippling tawny hair. Miss Rindy was evidently proud of her, introducing her right and left as, “My little girl, Ellen North.” When they walked up the street with the Todds, Ellen fell behind with Jeremy while Mrs. Todd chatted away vivaciously with Miss Rindy, the two appearing to be on the best of terms. “You noticed that I played ‘Warum’ for the offertory this morning,” said Mr. Todd to his companion. “Oh, I did notice, and I could scarcely keep back the tears. ‘Why? Why?’ it kept saying to me, and I wondered why trouble and grief must come.” “I know, I know, but you must not be unhappy, little Ellen. A good man has said: ‘It is not by change of circumstances, but by fitting our spirits to the circumstances in which God has placed us, that we can be reconciled to life and duty.’ And another says that trouble ‘brings for us, if we will accept it, the boon of fortitude, patience, self-control, wisdom, sympathy, faith.’ Those are big things to gain, Ellen,—big things.” Ellen smiled rather wistfully. “I’ll try to remember,” she replied. CHAPTER V SCHOOL DAYS Four walls enclosing countless eyes which were fixed upon her critically, was the impression which Ellen received on Monday morning when she entered the schoolroom. Miss Hawley, her prospective teacher, was one of those who had called during the week. Ellen wondered if she would seem less awesome upon further acquaintance, for she was dignified, tall, handsome, and unapproachable. Next to Ellen on one side sat Carolyn Rowe, a nice wholesome-looking girl with wide-open blue eyes and a winning smile. On the other side sat Florence Ives, who was constantly fluffing up her bobbed hair, which stood out like a bush around her rather large head. Florence had a simpering expression, an affected lisp, and a way of drooping and half closing her eyes to make them appear dreamy. She was much made up, and was continually but furtively powdering her nose or looking at herself in the small mirror she kept within her desk. In glancing around the room Ellen decided that she would like Carolyn better than any of the other girls, and she hoped the girl would take a fancy to her. So at recess she was glad to meet Carolyn’s advances with more graciousness than she exhibited toward the others, though most of these appeared disposed to be friendly.