"Now, Mamma, you look like yourself; I haven't seen you look so well this great while. I'm glad you're going out again," said Ellen, putting her arms round her; "I do believe it will do you good. Now, Mamma, I'll go and get ready; I'll be very quick about it; you shan't have to wait long for me." In a few minutes the two set forth from the house. The day was as fine as could be; there was no wind, there was no dust; the sun was not oppressive; and Mrs. Montgomery did feel refreshed and strengthened during the few steps they had to take to their first stopping-place. It was a jeweller's store. Ellen had never been in one before in her life, and her first feeling on entering was of dazzled wonderment at the glittering splendours around; this was presently forgotten in curiosity to know what her mother could possibly want there. She soon discovered that she had come to sell, and not to buy. Mrs. Montgomery drew a ring from her finger, and, after a little chaffering, parted with it to the owner of the store for eighty dollars, being about three- quarters of its real value. The money was counted out, and she left the store. "Mamma," said Ellen, in a low voice, "wasn't that grandmamma's ring, which I thought you loved so much?" "Yes, I did love it, Ellen, but I love you better." "Oh, Mamma, I am very sorry!" said Ellen. "You need not be sorry, daughter. Jewels in themselves are the merest nothings to me; and as for the rest, it doesn't matter; I can remember my mother without any help from a trinket." There were tears, however, in Mrs. Montgomery's eyes, that showed the sacrifice had cost her something; and there were tears in Ellen's, that told it was not thrown away upon her. "I am sorry you should know of this," continued Mrs. Montgomery; "you should not if I could have helped it. But set your heart quite at rest, Ellen; I assure you this use of my ring gives me more pleasure on the whole than any other I could have made of it." A grateful squeeze of her hand and glance into her face was Ellen's answer. Mrs. Montgomery had applied to her husband for the funds necessary to fit Ellen comfortably for the time they should be absent; and in answer he had given her a sum barely sufficient for her mere clothing. Mrs. Montgomery knew him better than to ask for a further supply, but she resolved to have recourse to other means to do what she had determined upon. Now that she was about to leave her little daughter, and it might be for ever, she had set her heart upon providing her with certain things which she thought important to her comfort and improvement, and which Ellen would go very long without if _she_ did not give them to her, and _now_. Ellen had had very few presents in her life, and those always of the simplest and cheapest kind; her mother resolved that in the midst of the bitterness of this time she would give her one pleasure, if she could — it might be the last.