"Good morning!" said he. "How d'ye do to-day?" "Very well, Mr. Van Brunt." "I wish you'd look a little redder in the face. Don't you be too busy. Where's Nancy?" "Oh, she's busy out with the clothes." "Same as ever upstairs? What are you going to do for breakfast, Ellen?" "I don't know, Mr. Van Brunt; there isn't anything cooked in the house; we have eaten everything up." "Cleaned out, eh? Bread and all?" "Oh no, not bread; there's plenty of that, but there's nothing else." "Well, never mind; you bring me a ham and a dozen of eggs, and I'll make you a first-rate breakfast." Ellen laughed, for this was not the first time Mr. Van Brunt had acted as cook for the family. While she got what he had asked for, and bared a place on the table for his operations, he went to the spout and washed his hands. "Now a sharp knife, Ellen, and the frying-pan, and a dish, and that's all I want of you." Ellen brought them, and while he was busy with the ham she made the coffee and set it by the side of the fire to boil; got the cream and butter, and set the bread on the table; and then set herself down to rest, and amuse herself with Mr. Van Brunt's cookery. He was no mean hand, his slices of ham were very artist-like, and frying away in the most unexceptional manner. Ellen watched him and laughed at him, till the ham was taken out and all the eggs broke in; then, after seeing that the coffee was right, she went upstairs to dress her grandmother--always the last thing before breakfast. "Who's frying ham and eggs downstairs?" inquired Miss Fortune. "Mr. Van Brunt," said Ellen. This answer was unexpected. Miss Fortune tossed her head over in a dissatisfied kind of way, and told Ellen to "tell him to be careful." "Of what?" thought Ellen; and wisely concluded with herself not to deliver the message; very certain she should laugh if she did, and she had running in her head an indistinct notion of the command, "Honour thy father and thy mother."