"What are you doing, Mrs. Vawse, may I ask?" said Alice. "I'm just stirring up some Indian meal for you; I find I have not but a crust left." "Please to put that away, ma'am, for another time. Do you think I didn't know better than to come up to this mountain-top without bringing along something to live upon while I am here? Here's a basket, ma'am, and in it are divers things; I believe Margery and I between us have packed up enough for two or three suppers, to say nothing of Miss Fortune's pie. There it is--sure to be good, you know; and here are some of my cakes that you like so much, Mrs. Vawse," said Alice, as she went on pulling the things out of the basket; "there is a bowl of butter--that's not wanted, I see--and here is a loaf of bread; and that's all. Ellen, my dear, this basket will be lighter to carry down than it was to bring up." "I am glad of it, I am sure," said Ellen; "my arm hasn't done aching yet, though I had it so little while." "Ah, I am glad to hear that kettle singing," said their hostess. "I can give you good tea, Miss Alice; you'll think so, I know, for it's the same Mr. John sent me. It is very fine tea; and he sent me a noble supply, like himself," continued Mrs. Vawse, taking some out of her little caddy. "I ought not to say I have no friends left; I cannot eat a meal that I am not reminded of two good ones. Mr. John knew one of my weak points when he sent me that box of Souchong." The supper was ready, and the little party gathered round the table. The tea did credit to the judgment of the giver and the skill of the maker, but they were no critics that drank it. Alice and Ellen were much too hungry and too happy to be particular. Miss Fortune's pumpkin pie was declared to be very fine, and so were Mrs. Vawse's cheese and butter. Eating and talking went on with great spirit, their old friend seeming scarce less pleased or less lively than themselves. Alice proposed the French plan, and Mrs. Vawse entered into it very frankly; it was easy to see that the style of building and of dress to which she had been accustomed in early life were not the only things remembered kindly for old time's sake. It was settled they should meet as frequently as might be, either here or at the parsonage, and become good Frenchwomen with all convenient speed. "Will you wish to walk so far to see me again, little Miss Ellen?" "Oh yes, ma'am!" "You won't fear the deep snow, and the wind and cold, and the steep hill?" "Oh no, ma'am, I won't mind them a bit; but, ma'am, Miss Alice told me to ask you why you loved better to live up here than down where it is warmer. I shouldn't ask if she hadn't said I might." "Ellen has a great fancy for getting at the reason of everything, Mrs. Vawse," said Alice, smiling. "You wonder anybody should choose it, don't you, Miss Ellen?" said the old lady. "Yes, ma'am, a little."