Mrs. Montgomery sighed heavily, and again arranged herself to watch the eastern horizon, or rather with her face in that direction; for she could see nothing. But, more quietly now, she lay gazing into the darkness, which it was in vain to try to penetrate; and thoughts succeeding thoughts in a more regular train, at last fairly cheated her into sleep, much as she wished to keep it off. She slept soundly for near an hour; and when she awoke, the dawn had really begun to break in the eastern sky. She again aroused Captain Montgomery, who this time allowed it might be as well to get up; but it was with unutterable impatience that she saw him lighting a lamp, and moving about as leisurely as if he had nothing more to do than to get ready for breakfast at eight o'clock. "Oh! do speak to Ellen!" she said, unable to control herself. "Never mind brushing your hair till afterwards. She will have no time for any thing. Oh! do not wait any longer! what are you thinking of?" "What are _you_ thinking of?" said the captain; — "there's plenty of time. Do quiet yourself — you're getting as nervous as possible. I'm going immediately." Mrs. Montgomery fairly groaned with impatience, and an agonizing dread of what was to follow the disclosure to Ellen. But her husband coolly went on with his preparations, which indeed were not long in finishing; and then taking the lamp, he at last went. He had in truth delayed on purpose, wishing the final leave-taking to be as brief as possible; and the gray streaks of light in the east were plainly showing themselves when he opened the door of his little daughter's room. He found her lying very much as her mother had left her — in the same quiet sleep, and with the same expression of calmness and peace spread over her whole face and person. It touched even him, and he was not readily touched by any thing; — it made him loth to say the word that would drive all that sweet expression so quickly and completely away. It must be said, however; the increasing light warned him he must not tarry; but it was with a hesitating and almost faltering voice that he said, "Ellen!" She stirred in her sleep, and the shadow came over her face again. "Ellen! Ellen!" She started up — broad awake now; — and both the shadow and the peaceful expression were gone from her face. It was a look of blank astonishment at first with which she regarded her father, but very soon indeed that changed into one of bleak despair. He saw that she understood perfectly what he was there for, and that there was no need at all for him to trouble himself with making painful explanations. "Come, Ellen," he said, "that's a good child — make haste and dress. There's no time to lose now, for the carriage will soon be at the door; and your mother wants to see you, you know." Ellen hastily obeyed him, and began to put on her stockings and shoes.