Mr. Van Brunt flung open the door, and the two wet and weary travellers stepped after him into the same cheerful, comfortable-looking kitchen that had received Ellen once before. Just the same--tidy, clean-swept up, a good fire, and the same old red-backed chairs standing round on the hearth in most cosy fashion. It seemed to Ellen a perfect storehouse of comfort; the very walls had a kind face for her. There were no other faces, however; the chairs were all empty. Mr. Van Brunt put Alice in one and Ellen in another, and shouted, "Mother! here!" muttering that she had taken herself off with the light somewhere. Not very far; for in half a minute, answering the call, Mrs. Van Brunt and the light came hurriedly in. "What's the matter, 'Brahm? who's this? why, 'taint Miss Alice! My gracious me! and all wet! oh dear, dear! poor lamb! Why, Miss Alice, dear, where have you been?--and if that ain't my little Ellen! oh dear! what a fix you are in;--well, darling, I'm glad to see you again, a'most any way." She crossed over to kiss Ellen as she said this; but surprise was not more quickly alive than kindness and hospitality. She fell to work immediately to remove Alice's wet things, and to do whatever their joint prudence and experience might suggest to ward off any ill effects from the fatigue and exposure the wanderers had suffered; and while she was thus employed, Mr. Van Brunt busied himself with Ellen, who was really in no condition to help herself. It was curious to see him carefully taking off Ellen's wet hood (not the blue one), and knocking it gently to get rid of the snow; evidently thinking that ladies' things must have delicate handling. He tried the cloak next, but boggled sadly at the fastening of that, and at last was fain to call in help. "Here, Nancy! where are you? step here and see if you can undo this here thing, whatever you call it; I believe my fingers are too big for it." It was Ellen's former acquaintance who came forward in obedience to this call. Ellen had not seen before that she was in the room. Nancy grinned a mischievous smile of recognition as she stooped to Ellen's throat, and undid the fastening of the cloak, and then shortly enough bade her "get up, that she might take it off." Ellen obeyed, but was very glad to sit down again. While Nancy went to the door to shake the cloak, Mr. Van Brunt was gently pulling off Ellen's wet gloves, and on Nancy's return, he directed her to take off the shoes, which were filled with snow. Nancy sat down on the floor before Ellen to obey this order; and, tired and exhausted as she was, Ellen felt the different manner in which her hands and feet were waited upon. "How did you get into this scrape?" said Nancy; "_this_ was none of my doings, anyhow. It'll never be dry weather, Ellen, where you are. I won't put on my Sunday go-to-meeting clothes when I go a-walking with you. You had ought to ha' been a duck or a goose, or something like that. What's that for, Mr. Van Brunt?"