Those
storms had all passed away; the last shadow of a cloud had
departed; her evening sun was shining clear and bright towards
the setting; and her brow was beautifully placid, not as
though it never had been, but as if it never could be ruffled
again. Respect no one could help feeling for her; and more
than respect, one felt, would grow with acquaintance. Her
dress was very odd, Ellen thought. It was not American, and
what it was she did not know, but supposed Mrs. Vawse must
have a lingering fancy for the costume as well as for the
roofs of her fatherland. More than all, her eye turned again
and again to the face, which seemed to her, in its changing
expression, winning and pleasant exceedingly. The mouth had
not forgotten to smile, nor the eye to laugh; and though this
was not often seen, the constant play of feature showed a deep
and lively sympathy in all Alice was saying, and held Ellen's
charmed gaze; and when the old lady's looks and words were at
length turned to herself, she blushed to think how long she
had been looking steadily at a stranger.
"Little Miss Ellen, how do you like my house on the rock
here?"
"I don't know, Ma’am," said Ellen; "I like it very much; only
I don't think I should like it so well in winter."
"I am not certain that I don't like it then best of all. Why
would you not like it in winter?"
"I shouldn't like the cold, Ma’am, and to be alone.
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