Nancy saw she had no chance with Miss Fortune in her present humour, and went quickly out. A little while after Ellen was standing at the window, from which, through the shed window, she had a view of the chip-yard, and there she saw Nancy lingering still, walking round and round in a circle, and kicking the snow with her feet in a discontented fashion. "I am very glad she isn't going to be here," thought Ellen. "But, poor thing! I dare say she is very much disappointed. And how sorry she will feel going back all that long, long way home! What if I should get her leave to stay? Wouldn't it be a fine way of returning good for evil? But, oh dear! I don't want her here! But that's no matter." The next minute Mr. Van Brunt was half startled by Ellen's hand on his shoulder, and the softest of whispers in his ear. He looked up, very much surprised. "Why, do _you_ want her?" said he, likewise in a low tone. "No," said Ellen, "but I know I should feel very sorry if I was in her place." Mr. Van Brunt whistled quietly to himself. "Well!" said he, "you _are_ a good-natured piece." "Miss Fortune," said he presently, "if that mischievous girl comes in again, I recommend you to let her stay." "Why?" "'Cause it's true what she said--she'll do you as much good as half-a-dozen. She'll behave herself this evening, I'll engage, or if she don't I'll make her." "She's too impudent to live! But I don't care; her grandmother is another sort. But I guess she is gone by this time." Ellen waited only till her aunt's back was turned. She slipped downstairs and out at the kitchen door, and ran up the slope to the fence of the chip-yard. "Nancy--Nancy!" "What?" said Nancy, wheeling about. "If you go in now, I guess Aunt Fortune will let you stay." "What makes you think so?" said the other surlily. "'Cause Mr. Van Brunt was speaking to her about it. Go in, and you'll see." Nancy looked doubtfully at Ellen's face, and then ran hastily in. More slowly Ellen went back by the way she came. When she reached the upper kitchen she found Nancy as busy as possible--as much at home already as if she had been there all day, helping to set the table in the hall, and going to and fro between that and the buttery with an important face. Ellen was not suffered to help, nor even to stand and see what was doing, so she sat down in the corner by her old friend Mrs. Van Brunt, and with her head in her lap watched by the firelight the busy figures that went back and forward, and Mr. Van Brunt, who still sat working at his bits of board. There were pleasant thoughts in Ellen's head that kept the dancing blaze company. Mr. Van Brunt once looked up and asked her what she was smiling at. The smile brightened at his question, but he got no more answer.