She slept till Alice was obliged to waken her the next morning; and then got up with her head in a charming confusion of, pleasures past and pleasures to come — things known and unknown, to be made for everybody's New Year presents — linen collars and painted needlebooks; and no sooner was breakfast over than she was showing and explaining to Ellen Chauncey a particularly splendid and mysterious way of embroidering the edges of needlebook leaves. Deep in this, they were still an hour afterwards, and in the comparative merits of purple and rose-colour, when a little hubbub arose at the other end of the room, on the arrival of a new-comer. Ellen Chauncey looked up from her work, then dropped it, exclaiming, "There she is! — now for the bag!" — and pulled Ellen along with her towards the party. A young lady was in the midst of it, talking so fast, that she had not time to take off her cloak and bonnet. As her eye met Ellen's, however, she came to a sudden pause. It was Margaret Dunscombe. Ellen's face certainly showed no pleasure; Margaret's darkened with a very disagreeable surprise. "My goodness! — Ellen Montgomery! — how on earth did you get _here?_" "Do you know her?" asked one of the girls, as the two Ellens went off after "Aunt Sophia." "Do I know her? Yes — just enough — exactly. How did she get here?" "Miss Humphreys brought her." "Who's Miss Humphreys?" "Hush!" said Marianne, lowering her tone — "that's her brother in the window." "Whose brother? — hers or Miss Humphreys'?" "Miss Humphreys'. Did you never see her? She is here, or has been here, a great deal of the time. Grandma calls her her fourth daughter; and she is just as much at home as if she was; and she brought her here." "And she's at home, too, I suppose. Well, it's no business of mine." "What do you know of her?" "Oh, enough — that's just it — don't want to know any more." "Well, you needn't; but what's the matter with her?" "Oh, I don't know. I'll tell you some other time — she's a conceited little piece. We had the care of her coming up the river — that's how I come to know about her; Ma said it was the last child she would be bothered with in that way." Presently the two girls came back, bring word to clear the table, for Aunt Sophia was coming with the moroccoes. As soon as she came, Ellen Chauncey sprang to her neck and whispered an earnest question. "Certainly!" Aunt Sophia said, as she poured out the contents of the bag; and her little niece delightedly told Ellen _she_ was to have her share as well as the rest.