She came in,
shutting the door behind her with her foot; and indeed both
hands were full, one holding a lamp and a knife, and the other
a plate of butter. The sight of Ellen stopped her short.
"What is this? and what do you leave the door open for,
child?" she said.
She advanced towards it, plate and lamp in hand, and setting
her back against the door, shut it vigorously.
"Who are you? and what's wanting?"
"I am Ellen Montgomery, Ma’am," said Ellen timidly.
"_What?_" said the lady, with some emphasis.
"Didn't you expect me, Ma’am?" said Ellen. "Papa said he would
write."
"Why, is this Ellen Montgomery?" said Miss Fortune, apparently
forced to the conclusion that it must be.
"Yes, Ma’am," said Ellen.
Miss Fortune went to the table, and put the butter and the
lamp in their places.
"Did you say your father wrote to tell me of your coming?"
"He said he would, Ma’am," said Ellen.
"He didn't! Never sent me a line. Just like him! I never yet
knew Morgan Montgomery do a thing when he promised he would."
Ellen's face flushed, and her heart swelled. She stood
motionless.
"How did you get down here to-night?"
"I came in Mr. Van Brunt's ox-cart," said Ellen.
"Mr. Van Brunt's ox-cart! Then he's got home, has he?" And
hearing this instant a noise outside, Miss Fortune swept to
the door, saying, as she opened it, "Sit down, child, and take
off your things.
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