"Oh yes, I hope so," said Ellen, sighing; "I am very tired of lying here." He looked round the room; got up and mended the fire; then came and sat down again. "I was up yesterday for a minute," said Ellen, "but the chair tired me so, I was glad to get back to bed again." It was no wonder! harder and straighter-backed chairs never were invented. Probably Mr. Van Brunt thought so. "Wouldn't you like to have a rocking-cheer?" said he suddenly, as if a bright thought had struck him. "Oh yes, how much I should!" said Ellen, with another long-drawn breath; "but there isn't such a thing in the house that ever I saw." "Aye, but there is in other houses, though," said Mr. Van Brunt, with as near an approach to a smile as his lips commonly made; "we'll see!" Ellen smiled more broadly. "But don't you give yourself any trouble for me," said she. "Trouble, indeed!" said Mr. Van Brunt; "I don't know anything about that. How came that wicked thing up here to plague you?" "She said Aunt Fortune left her to take care of me." "That's one of her lies. Your aunt's gone out, I know; but she's a trifle wiser than to do such a thing as that. She has plagued you badly, ha'n't she?" He might have thought so. The colour which excitement brought into Ellen's face had faded away, and she had settled herself back against her pillow with an expression of weakness and weariness that the strong man saw and felt. "What is there I can do for you?" said he, with a gentleness that seemed almost strange from such lips. "If you would," said Ellen faintly, "if you _could_ be so kind as to read me a hymn, I should be so glad. I've had nobody to read to me." Her hand put the little book towards him as she said so. Mr. Van Brunt would vastly rather any one had asked him to plough an acre. He was to the full as much confounded as poor Ellen had once been at a request of his. He hesitated and looked towards Ellen, wishing for an excuse. But the pale little face that lay there against the pillow, the drooping eyelids, the meek, helpless look of the little child put all excuses out of his head; and though he would have chosen to do almost anything else, he took the book, and asked her "Where?" She said anywhere; and he took the first he saw. "Poor, weak, and worthless though I am, I have a rich, almighty friend; Jesus the Saviour is His name, He freely loves, and without end." "Oh," said Ellen, with a sigh of pleasure, and folding her hands on her breast--"how lovely that is!" He stopped and looked at her a moment, and then went on with increased gravity. "He ransomed me from hell with blood, And by His pow'r my foes controlled; He found me wand'ring far from God, And brought me to His chosen fold." "Fold!" said Ellen, opening her eyes; "what is that?" "It's where sheep are penned, ain't it?" said Mr. Van Brunt, after a pause.