Christian life -- Fiction; Conduct of life -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
Ellen remembered his words, and tried to follow them now, but
she could not be "patient under his will" yet not quite. It
was very hard to be patient in such uncertainty. With swimming
eyes she turned over her Bible in search of comfort, and found
it. Her eye lit upon words she knew very well, but that were
like the fresh sight of a friend's face for all that, "Let
not your heart be troubled; ye believe in God, believe also in
me. In my Father's house are many mansions." There is no
parting there, thought little Ellen. She cried a long time,
but she was comforted, nevertheless. The heart that rests on
the blessed One who said those words can never be quite
desolate.
For several days things went on in the old train, only her
aunt, she thought, was sometimes rather queer not quite as
usual in her manner towards her. Mr. Van Brunt was not _rather_,
but _very_ queer; he scarce spoke or looked at Ellen; bolted
down his food, and was off without a word; and even stayed
away entirely from two or three meals. She saw nobody else.
Weather and other circumstances prevented her going to the
mountain.
One afternoon, she was giving her best attention to a French
lesson, when she heard herself called. Miss Fortune was in the
lower kitchen, dipping candles. Ellen ran down.
"I don't know what's got into these candles," said Miss
Fortune. "I can't make 'em hang together; the tallow ain't
good, I guess. Where's the nearest place they keep bees?"
"They have got bees at Mrs. Hitchcock's," said Ellen.
"So they have in Egypt, for anything I know," said her aunt;
"one would be about as much good now as t'other. Mrs. Lowndes
that ain't far off. Put on your bonnet, Ellen, and run over
there, and ask her to let me have a little bees'-wax. I'll pay
her in something she likes best."
"Does Mrs. Lowndes keep bee-hives?" said Ellen, doubtfully.
"No; she makes the bees'-wax herself," said Miss Fortune, in
the tone she always took when anybody presumed to suppose she
might be mistaken in anything.
"How much shall I ask for?" said Ellen.
"Oh, I don't know a pretty good piece."
Ellen was not very clear what quantity this might mean.
However, she wisely asked no more questions, and set out upon
her walk. It was hot and disagreeable; just the time of day
when the sun had most power, and Mrs. Lowndes' house was about
half-way on the road to Alice's. It was not a place where
Ellen liked to go, though the people always made much of her;
she did not fancy them, and regularly kept out of their way
when she could. Miss Mary Lawson was sitting with Mrs. Lowndes
and her daughter, when Ellen came in and briefly gave her
aunt's message.
"Bees'-wax," said Mrs. Lowndes "well, I don't know How
much does she want?"
"I don't know, Ma'am, exactly: she said a pretty good piece."
"What's it for, do you know, honey?"
"I believe it's to put in some tallow for candles," said
Ellen; "the tallow was too soft, she said."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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