With Monday morning began a grand bustle, and Ellen was well enough now to come in for her share. The kitchen, parlour, hall, shed, and lower kitchen, must all be thoroughly swept and dusted; this was given to her, and a morning's work pretty near she found it. Then she had to rub bright all the brass handles of the doors, and the big brass andirons in the parlour, and the brass candlesticks on the parlour mantel- piece. When at last she got through, and came to the fire to warm herself, she found her grandmother lamenting that her snuff-box was empty, and asking her daughter to fill it for her. "Oh! I can't be bothered to be running upstairs to fill snuff- boxes," answered that lady; "you'll have to wait." "I'll get it, Grandma," said Ellen, "if you'll tell me where." "Sit down, and be quiet!" said Miss Fortune; "you go into my room just when I bid you, and not till then." Ellen sat down. But no sooner was Miss Fortune hid in the buttery, than the old lady beckoned her to her side, and nodding her head a great many times, gave her the box, saying, softly — "You can run up now; she won't see you, deary. It's in a jar in the closet. Now's the time." Ellen could not bear to say no. She hesitated a minute, and then boldly opened the buttery door. "Keep out! — what do you want?" "She wanted me to go for the snuff," said Ellen, in a whisper; "please, do let me — I won't look at anything, nor touch anything, but just get the snuff." With an impatient gesture, her aunt snatched the box from her hand, pushed Ellen out of the buttery, and shut the door. The old lady kissed and fondled her, as if she had done what she had only tried to do; smoothed down her hair, praising its beauty, and whispered — "Never mind, deary — you'll read to Grandma, won't you?" It cost Ellen no effort now. With the beginning of kind offices to her poor old parent, kind feeling had sprung up fast; instead of disliking and shunning, she had begun to love her. There was no dinner for any one this day. Mr. and Mrs. Van Brunt came to an early tea; after which, Ellen was sent to dress herself, and Mr. Van Brunt to get some pieces of board for the meat-choppers. He came back presently with an armful of square bits of wood; and sitting down before the fire, began to whittle the rough sawn ends over the hearth. His mother grew nervous. Miss Fortune bore it as she would have borne it from no one else, but vexation was gathering in her breast for the first occasion. Presently, Ellen's voice was heard singing down the stairs. "I'd give something to stop that child's pipe!" said Miss Fortune; "she's eternally singing the same thing over and over — something about 'a charge to keep' — I'd a good notion to give her a charge to keep this morning; it would have been to hold her tongue." "That would have been a public loss, _I_ think," said Mr. Van Brunt, gravely. "Well, you _are_ making a precious litter!" said the lady, turning short upon him.