The time drew nigh when John was expected home for the holidays. In the meanwhile they had had many visits from other friends. Mr. Van Brunt had come several times, enough to set the whole neighbourhood a-wondering, if they had only known it; his good old mother oftener still; Mrs. Vawse as often as possible; Miss Fortune once; and that because, as she said to herself, "Everybody would be talking about what was none of their business if she didn't." As neither she nor Ellen knew in the least what to say to each other, the visit was rather a dull one, spite of all Alice could do. Jenny Hitchcock, and the Huffs, and the Dennisons and others, came now and then; but Ellen did not like to see any of them all but Mrs. Vawse. Alice longed for her brother. He came at last, just before New Year. It was the middle of a fine afternoon, and Alice and her father had gone in the sleigh to Carra-carra. Ellen had chosen to stay behind, but Margery did not know this, and of course did not tell John. After paying a visit to her in the kitchen, he had come back to the empty sitting-room, and was thoughtfully walking up and down the floor, when the door of Alice's room slowly opened, and Ellen appeared. It was never her way, when she could help it, to show violent feeling before other people; so she had been trying to steel herself to meet John without crying, and now came in with her little grave face, prepared not to give way. His first look had like to overset it all. "Ellie!" said he; "I thought everybody was gone. My dear Ellie!" Ellen could hardly stand the tone of these three words, and she bore with the greatest difficulty the kiss that followed them; it took but a word or two more, and a glance at the old look and smile, to break down entirely all her guard. According to her usual fashion, she was rushing away; but John held her fast, and, though gently, drew her close to him. "I will not let you forget that I am your brother, Ellie," said he. Ellen hid her face on his shoulder, and cried as if she had never cried before. "Ellie," said he after a while, speaking low and tenderly, "the Bible says, 'We have known and believed the love that God hath towards us;' — have you remembered and believed this lately?" Ellen did not answer. "Have you remembered that God loves every sinner that has believed in his dear Son? — and loves them so well, that He will let nothing come near them to harm them? — and loves them never better than when He sends bitter trouble on them? It is wonderful! but it is true. Have you thought of this, Ellie?" She shook her head. "It is not in anger He does it; it is not that He has forgotten you: it is not that He is careless of your trembling little heart — never, never! If you are his child, all is done in love, and shall work good for you; and if we often cannot see how, it is because we are weak and foolish, and can see but a very little way." Ellen listened with her face hid on his shoulder.