It
seemed as if she had her mother again in her arms, and was
clinging with a death-grasp, not to be parted from her. And
then the feeling that she was parted! As much bitter sorrow as
a little heart can know was in poor Ellen's now. In her
childish despair she wished she could die, and almost thought
she should. After a time, however, though not a short time,
she rose from the floor and went to her writing again — her
heart a little eased by weeping, yet the tears kept coming all
the time, and she could not quite keep her paper from being
blotted. The first sheet was spoiled before she was aware; she
took another.
"MY DEAREST MAMMA,
"It makes me so glad and so sorry to write to you, that I
don't know what to do. I want to see you so much, Mamma, that
it seems to me sometimes as if my heart would break. Oh,
Mamma, if I could just kiss you once more, I would give
anything in the whole world. I can't be happy as long as you
are away, and I am afraid I can't be good either; but I will
try — oh, I will try, Mamma. I have so much to say to you,
that I don't know where to begin. I am sure my paper will
never hold it. You will want to know about my journey. The
first day was on the steamboat, you know. I should have had a
dreadful time that day, Mamma, but for something I'll tell you
about. I was sitting up on the upper deck, thinking about you,
and feeling very badly indeed, when a gentleman came and spoke
to me, and asked me what was the matter.
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