When she came down the next morning, the fire was burning nicely, and the kettle on and singing. Not Nancy's work; Mr. Van Brunt had slept in the kitchen; whether on the table, the floor, or the chairs, was best known to himself; and before going to his work, had left everything he could think of ready done to her hand; — wood for the fire, pails of water brought from the spout, and some matters in the lower kitchen got out of the way. Ellen stood warming herself at the blaze, when it suddenly darted into her head that it was milking time. In another minute she had thrown open the door and was running across the chip-yard to the barn. There, in the old place, were all her old friends, both four-legged and two-legged; and with great delight she found Dolly had a fine calf, and Streaky another superb one, brindled just like herself. Ellen longed to get near enough to touch their little innocent heads, but it was impossible; and recollecting the business on her hands, she too danced away. "Whew!" said Nancy, when Ellen told her of the new inmates of the barn-yard; — "there'll be work to do! Get your milk-pans ready, Ellen; in a couple of weeks we'll be making butter." "Aunt Fortune will be well by that time, I hope," said Ellen. "She won't, then, so you may just make up your mind to it. Dr. Gibson was to see her yesterday forenoon, and he stopped at Miss Lowndes' on his way back; and he said it was a chance if she got up again in a month and more. So, that's what it is, you see."