Christian life -- Fiction; Conduct of life -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
But alas! the fire had got very low; there was no making the
tea quickly; and the toast was a work of time. And when all
was over at length, it was then too late for Ellen to begin to
undo packages. She struggled with impatience a minute or two,
and then gave up the point very gracefully, and went to bed.
She had a fine opportunity the next day to make up for the
evening's disappointment. It was cloudy and stormy; going out
was not to be thought of, and it was very unlikely that
anybody would come in. Ellen joyfully allotted the whole
morning to the examination and trial of her new possessions;
and as soon as breakfast was over and the room clear, she set
about it. She first went through the desk and everything in
it, making a running commentary on the excellence, fitness,
and beauty of all it contained; then the dressing-box received
a share, but a much smaller share, of attention; and lastly,
with fingers trembling with eagerness, she untied the pack-
thread that was wound round the workbox, and slowly took off
cover after cover; she almost screamed when the last was
removed. The box was of satinwood, beautifully finished, and
lined with crimson silk; and Mrs. Montgomery had taken good
care it should want nothing that Ellen might need to keep her
clothes in perfect order.
"Oh, Mamma, how beautiful! Oh, Mamma, how good you are! Mamma,
I promise you I'll never be a slattern. Here is more cotton
than I can use up in a great while every number, I do think;
and needles, oh, the needles! what a parcel of them! and,
Mamma, what a lovely scissors! Did you choose it, Mamma, or
did it belong to the box?"
"I chose it."
"I might have guessed it, Mamma, it's just like you. And
here's a thimble fits me exactly! and an emery-bag! how
pretty! and a bodkin! this is a great nicer than yours,
Mamma yours is decidedly the worse for wear; and what's
this? oh, to make eyelet-holes with, I know. And oh, Mamma!
here is almost everything, I think here are tapes, and
buttons, and hooks and eyes, and darning-cotton, and silk-
winders, and pins, and all sorts of things. What's this for,
Mamma?"
"That's a scissors to cut button-holes with. Try it on that
piece of paper that lies by you, and you will see how it
works."
"Oh, I see!" said Ellen, "how very nice that is! Well, I shall
take great pains now to make my button-holes very handsomely."
One survey of her riches could by no means satisfy Ellen. For
some time she pleased herself with going over and over the
contents of the box, finding each time something new to like.
At length she closed it, and keeping it still in her lap, sat
awhile looking thoughtfully into the fire; till, turning
towards her mother, she met her gaze, fixed mournfully, almost
tearfully, on herself. The box was instantly shoved aside, and
getting up and bursting into tears, Ellen went to her.
"Oh, dear mother," she said, "I wish they were all back in the
store, if I could only keep you!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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