Christian life -- Fiction; Conduct of life -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
"There she is, then," said Mr. Van Brunt, looking towards the
little window that opened into the shed. And there, indeed,
was the face of Miss Nancy pressed flat against the glass,
peering into the room! Miss Fortune beckoned to her.
"That is the most impudent, shameless, outrageous piece of .
What were you doing at the window?" said she as Nancy came in.
"Looking at you, Miss Fortune," said Nancy coolly. "What have
you been talking about, this great while? If there had only
been a pane of glass broken, I needn't have asked."
"Hold your tongue," said Miss Fortune, "and listen to me."
"I'll listen, Maam," said Nancy; "but it's no use to hold my
tongue. I do try sometimes, but I never could keep it long."
"Have you done?"
"I don't know, Maam," said Nancy, shaking her head; "it's
just as it happens."
"You tell your granny I am going to have a bee here next
Monday evening, and ask her if she'll come to it."
Nancy nodded. "If it's good weather," she added,
conditionally.
"Stop, Nancy!" said Miss Fortune "here!" for Nancy was
shutting the door behind her. "As sure as you come here
Monday night without your grandma, you'll go out of the house
quicker than you come in; see if you don't!"
With another gracious nod and smile, Nancy departed.
"Well," said Mr. Van Brunt, rising, "I'll despatch this
business down-stairs, and then I'll bring up the sleigh. The
pickle's ready, I suppose."
"No, it ain't," said Miss Fortune, "I couldn't make it
yesterday; but it's all in the kettle, and I told Sam to make
a fire down-stairs, so you can put it on when you do down. The
kits are all ready, and the salt, and everything else."
Mr. Van Brunt went down the stairs that led to the lower
kitchen; and Miss Fortune, to make up for lost time, set about
her morning's work with even an uncommon measure of activity.
Ellen, in consideration of her being still weak, was not
required to do anything. She sat and looked on, keeping out of
the way of her bustling aunt as far as it was possible; but
Miss Fortune's gyrations were of that character, that no one
could tell five minutes beforehand what she might consider "in
the way." Ellen wished for her quiet room again. Mr. Van
Brunt's voice sounded downstairs in tones of business; what
could he be about? it must be very uncommon business that kept
him in the house. Ellen grew restless with the desire to go
and see, and to change her aunt's company for his; and no
sooner was Miss Fortune fairly shut up in the buttery at some
secret work, than Ellen gently opened the door at the head of
the lower stairs, and looked down. Mr. Van Brunt was standing
at the bottom, and looked up.
"May I come down there, Mr. Van Brunt?" said Ellen, softly.
"Come down here? to be sure you may! You may always come
straight where I am, without asking any questions."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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