Christian life -- Fiction; Conduct of life -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
She slept till Alice was obliged to waken her the next morning, and then
got up with her head in a charming confusion of pleasures past and
pleasures to come--things known and unknown to be made for everybody's
New Year presents--linen collars and painted needle-books; and no sooner
was breakfast over than she was showing and explaining to Ellen Chauncey
a particularly splendid and mysterious way of embroidering the edges of
needle-book leaves. Deep in this they were still an hour afterwards, and
in the comparative merits of purple and rose-colour, when a little
hubbub arose at the other end of the room on the arrival of a new-comer.
Ellen Chauncey looked up from her work, then dropped it, exclaiming,
"There she is! now for the bag!" and pulled Ellen along with her towards
the party. A young lady was in the midst of it, talking so fast that she
had not time to take off her cloak and bonnet. As her eye met Ellen's,
however, she came to a sudden pause. It was Margaret Dunscombe. Ellen's
face certainly showed no pleasure; Margaret's darkened with a very
disagreeable surprise.
"My goodness, Ellen Montgomery, how on earth did you get _here_?" said
Margaret.
"Do you know her?" asked one of the girls, as the two Ellens went off
after "Aunt Sophia."
"Do I know her? Yes, just enough--exactly. How did she get here?"
"Miss Humphreys brought her."
"Who's Miss Humphreys?"
"Hush!" said Marianne, lowering her tone; "that's her brother in the
window."
"Who's brother?--hers or Miss Humphreys'?"
"Miss Humphreys'. Did you never see her? She is here, or has been here,
a great deal of the time. Grandma calls her her fourth daughter, and she
is just as much at home as if she was; and she brought her here."
"And she's at home too, I suppose. Well, it's no business of mine."
"What do you know of her?"
"Oh, enough--that's just it--don't want to know any more."
"Well, you needn't; but what's the matter with her?"
"Oh, I don't know; I'll tell you some other time; she's a conceited
little piece. We had the care of her coming up the river, that's how I
come to know about her. Ma said it was the last child she would be
bothered with in that way."
Presently the two girls came back, bringing word to clear the table, for
Aunt Sophia was coming with the moroccos. As soon as she came Ellen
Chauncey sprang to her neck and whispered an earnest question.
"Certainly!" Aunt Sophia said, as she poured out the contents of the
bag; and her little niece delightedly told Ellen _she_ was to have her
share as well as the rest.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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