When Ellen was able to begin her letter, the reading of it served to throw her back into fresh fits of tears. Many a word of Mrs. Montgomery's went so to her little daughter's heart, that its very inmost cords of love and tenderness were wrung. It is true, the letter was short and very simple; but it came from her mother's heart; it was written by her mother's hand; and the very old remembered hand-writing had mighty power to move her. She was so wrapped up in her own feelings, that through it all she never noticed that Alice was not near her, that Alice did not speak to comfort her. When the letter had been read time after time, and wept over again and again, and Ellen at last was folding it up for the present, she bethought herself of her friend, and turned to look after her. Alice was sitting by the window, her face hid in her hands; and as Ellen drew near, she was surprised to see that her tears were flowing, and her breast heaving. Ellen came quite close, and softly laid her hand on Alice's shoulder. But it drew no attention. "Miss Alice," said Ellen, almost fearfully, "_dear_ Miss Alice" — and her own eyes filled fast again — "what is the matter? — won't you tell me? Oh! don't do so! please don't!" "I will not," said Alice, lifting her head; "I am sorry I have troubled you, dear; I am sorry, I could not help it." She kissed Ellen, who stood anxious and sorrowful by her side, and brushed away her tears. But Ellen saw she had been shedding a great many. "What is the matter, dear Miss Alice? — what has happened to trouble you? — won't you tell me?" — Ellen was almost crying herself. Alice came back to the rocking-chair, and took Ellen in her arms again; but she did not answer her. Leaning her face against Ellen's forehead, she remained silent. Ellen ventured to ask no more questions; but lifting her hand once or twice caressingly to Alice's face, she was distressed to find her cheek wet still. Alice spoke at last. "It isn't fair not to tell you what is the matter, dear Ellen, since I have let you see me sorrowing. It is nothing new, nor anything I would have otherwise if I could. It is only that I have had a mother once, and have lost her; — and you brought back the old time so strongly, that I could not command myself." Ellen felt a hot tear drop upon her forehead, and again ventured to speak her sympathy only by silently stroking Alice's cheek. "It is all past now," said Alice; "it is all well. I would not have her back again. I shall go to her, I hope, by-and-by." "Oh, no! You must stay with me," said Ellen, clasping both arms around her. There was a long silence, during which they remained locked in each other's arms.