"No, my daughter. I'll not send you alone. But your father says it is impossible for _him_ to take the journey at present, and it is yet more impossible for me. There is no help for it, daughter, but we must intrust you to the care of some friend going that way; — but He that holds the winds and waters in the hollow of his hand, can take care of you without any of our help, and it is to his keeping above all that I shall commit you." Ellen made no remark, and seemed much less surprised and troubled than her mother had expected. In truth, the greater evil swallowed up the less. Parting from her mother, and for so long a time, it seemed to her comparatively a matter of little importance with whom she went, or how, or where. Except for this, the taking a long journey under a stranger's care? would have been a dreadful thing to her. "Do you know yet who it will be that I shall go with, Mamma?" "Not yet; but it will be necessary to take the first good opportunity, for I cannot go till I have seen you off. and it is thought very desirable that I should get to sea before the severe weather comes." It was with a pang that these words were spoken and heard, but neither showed it to the other. "It has comforted me greatly, my dear child, that you have shown yourself so submissive and patient under this affliction. I should scarcely have been able to endure it if you had not exerted self-control. You have behaved beautifully." This was almost too much for poor Ellen. It required her utmost stretch of self-control to keep within any bounds of composure; and for some moments her flushed cheek, quivering lip, and heaving bosom, told what a tumult her mother's words had raised. Mrs. Montgomery saw she had gone too far, and, willing to give both Ellen and herself time to recover, she laid her head on the pillow again, and closed her eyes. Many thoughts coming thick upon one another presently filled her mind, and half an hour had passed before she again recollected what she had meant to say. She opened her eyes; Ellen was sitting at a little distance, staring into the fire — evidently as deep in meditation as her mother had been. "Ellen," said Mrs. Montgomery, "did you ever fancy what kind of a Bible you would like to have?" "A Bible, Mamma!" said Ellen, with sparkling eyes; "do you mean to give me a Bible?" Mrs. Montgomery smiled. "But, Mamma," said Ellen, gently, "I thought you couldn't afford it?" "I have said so, and truly," answered her mother; "and hitherto you have been able to use mine, but I will not leave you now without one. I will find ways and means," said Mrs. Montgomery, smiling again. "Oh, Mamma, thank you," said Ellen, delighted; "how glad I shall be!" And, after a pause of consideration, she added, "Mamma, I never thought much about what sort of a one I should like — couldn't I tell better if I were to see the different kinds in the store?"