I shouldn't ask if she hadn't said I
might."
"Ellen has a great fancy for getting at the reason of
everything, Mrs. Vawse," said Alice, smiling.
"You wonder anybody should choose it, don't you, Miss Ellen?"
said the old lady.
"Yes, Ma’am, a little."
"I'll tell you the reason, my child. It is for the love of my
old home, and the memory of my young days. Till I was as old
as you are, and a little older, I lived among the mountains
and upon them; and after that, for many a year, they were just
before my eyes every day, stretching away for more than one
hundred miles, and piled up one above another, fifty times as
big as any you ever saw; these are only molehills to them. I
loved them — oh! how I love them still! If I have one
unsatisfied wish," said the old lady, turning to Alice, "it is
to see my Alps again; but that will never be. Now, Miss Ellen,
it is not that I fancy when I get to the top of this hill that
I am among my own mountains, but I can breathe better here
than down in the plain. I feel more free; and in the village I
would not live for gold, unless that duty bade me."
"But all alone, so far from everybody," said Ellen.
"I am never lonely; and, old as I am, I don't mind a long walk
or a rough road, any more than your young feet do."
"But isn't it very cold?" said Ellen.
"Yes, it is very cold? — what of that? I make a good blazing
fire; and then I like to hear the wind whistle.
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