He smiled and held out his hand, which Ellen took, but he would not leave the library, declaring they had a quarter of an hour still. So they sauntered up and down the long room, talking of different things, so pleasantly that Ellen near forgot her troubles. Then came in Miss Sophia to find them, and then Mr. Marshman, and Marianne to call them to tea; so the going into the drawing-room was not half so bad as Ellen thought it would be. She behaved very well; her face was touchingly humble that night; and all the evening she kept fast by either Alice or John, without budging an inch. And as little Ellen Chauncey and her cousin George Walsh chose to be where she was, the young party was quite divided; and not the least merry portion of it was that mixed with the older people. Little Ellen was half beside herself with spirits; the secret of which perhaps was the fact, which she several times in the course of the evening whispered to Ellen as a great piece of news, that "it was Christmas Eve!" CHAPTER XXIX As bees flee hame wi' lades o' treasure, The minutes winged their way wi' pleasure. Kings may be blest, but _they_ were glorious, O'er all the ills o' life victorious. --BURNS. Christmas morning was dawning grey, but it was still far from broad daylight, when Ellen was awakened. She found little Ellen Chauncey pulling and pushing at her shoulders, and whispering, "Ellen! Ellen!" in a tone that showed a great fear of waking somebody up. There she was, in night-gown and night-cap, and barefooted too, with a face brimful of excitement, and as wide awake as possible. Ellen roused herself in no little surprise, and asked what the matter was. "I am going to look at my stocking," whispered her visitor; "don't you want to get up and come with me? it's just here in the other room--come! don't make any noise." "But what if you should find nothing in it?" said Ellen laughingly, as she bounded out of bed. "Ah, but I shall, I know; I always do; never fear. Hush! step ever so softly; I don't want to wake anybody." "It's hardly light enough for you to see," whispered Ellen, as the two little barefooted white figures glided out of the room. "Oh yes, it is; that's all the fun. Hush! don't make a bit of noise--I know where it hangs--mamma always puts it at the back of her big easy chair--come this way--here it is! Oh, Ellen! there's two of 'em! There's one for you! there's one for you." In a tumult of delight one Ellen capered about the floor on the tips of her little bare toes, while the other, not less happy, stood still for pleasure. The dancer finished by hugging and kissing her with all her heart, declaring she was so glad she didn't know what to do. "But how shall we know which is which?" "Perhaps they are both alike," said Ellen.