Ellen was lying in the deep, sweet sleep of childhood; the easy position, the gentle breathing, and the flush of health upon the cheek, showed that all causes of sorrow were for the present far removed. Yet not so far either; for once, when Mrs. Montgomery stooped to kiss her, light as the touch of that kiss had been upon her lips, it seemed to awaken a train of sorrowful recollections in the little sleeper's mind. A shade passed over her face, and with gentle but sad accent the word "Mamma!" burst from the parted lips. Only a moment — and the shade passed away, and the expression of peace settled again upon her brow; but Mrs. Montgomery dared not try the experiment a second time. Long she stood looking upon her, as if she knew she was looking her last; then she knelt by the bedside, and hid her face in the coverings — but no tears came; the struggle in her mind, and her anxious fear for the morning's trial, made weeping impossible. Her husband at length came to seek her, and it was well he did; she would have remained there on her knees all night. He feared something of the kind, and came to prevent it. Mrs. Montgomery suffered herself to be led away without making any opposition, and went to bed as usual; but sleep was far from her. The fear of Ellen's distress when she should be awakened and suddenly told the truth, kept her in an agony. In restless wakefulness she tossed and turned uneasily upon her bed, watching for the dawn, and dreading unspeakably to see it. The captain, in happy unconsciousness of his wife's distress, and utter inability to sympathize with it, was soon in a sound sleep, and his heavy breathing was an aggravation of her trouble; it kept repeating, what indeed she knew already, that the only one in the world who ought to have shared and soothed her grief was not capable of doing either. Wearied with watching and tossing to and fro, she at length lost herself a moment in uneasy slumber, from which she suddenly started in terror, and seizing her husband's arm to arouse him, exclaimed, "It is time to wake Ellen!" but she had to repeat her efforts two or three times before she succeeded in making herself heard. "What is the matter?" said he, heavily, and not over well pleased at the interruption. "It is time to wake Ellen." "No it isn't," said he, relapsing; "it isn't time yet this great while." "Oh, yes, it is," said Mrs. Montgomery; "I am sure it is; I see the beginning of dawn in the east." "Nonsense! it's no such thing; it's the glimmer of the lamp- light; what is the use of your exciting yourself so, for nothing? It won't be dawn these two hours. Wait till I find my repeater, and I'll convince you." He found and struck it. "There! I told you so — only one quarter after four; it would be absurd to wake her yet. Do go to sleep, and leave it to me; I'll take care it is done in proper time."