"
But Ellen's voice was not so well guarded. It was like her
steps, a little unsteady. She presently spoke again.
"Miss Alice — are you afraid?"
"I am afraid of your getting sick, my child, and a little
afraid of it for myself — of nothing else. What is there to be
afraid of?"
"It is very dark," said Ellen; "and the storm is so thick — do
you think you can find the way?"
"I know it perfectly; it is nothing but to keep straight on;
and the fences would prevent us from getting out of the road.
It is hard walking, I know, but we shall get there by-and-by;
bear up as well as you can, dear. I am sorry I can give you no
help but words. Don't you think a nice bright fire will look
comfortable after all this?"
"O dear, yes!" answered Ellen, rather sadly.
"Are _you_ afraid, Ellen?"
"No, Miss Alice — not much — I don't like its being so dark; I
can't see where I am going."
"The darkness makes our way longer and more tedious; it will
do us no other harm, love. I wish I had a hand to give you,
but this great cat must have both of mine. The darkness and
the light are both alike to our Father: we are in his Hand; we
are safe enough, dear Ellen."
Ellen's hand left the cloak again for an instant to press
Alice's arm in answer; her voice failed at the minute. Then
clinging anew as close to her side as she could get, they
toiled patiently on.
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