They
opened wider than usual, for, instead of her Aunt Fortune, it
was the figure of Miss Nancy Vawse that presented itself. She
came in briskly, and, shutting the door behind her, advanced
to the bedside.
"Well," said she, "there you are! Why, you look smart enough.
I've come to see you."
"Have you?" said Ellen, uneasily.
"Miss Fortune's gone out, and she told me to come and take
care of you; so I'm a going to spend the afternoon."
"Are you?" said Ellen, again.
"Yes; ain't you glad? I knew you must be lonely, so I thought
I'd come."
There was a mischievous twinkle in Nancy's eyes. Ellen for
once in her life wished for her aunt's presence.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing," said Ellen.
"Nothing indeed! It's a fine thing to lie there and do
nothing. You won't get well in a hurry, I guess — will you?
You look as well as I do this minute. Oh, I always knew you
was a sham."
"You are very much mistaken," said Ellen, indignantly; "I have
been very sick, and I am not at all well yet."
"Fiddle-de-dee! it's very nice to think so; I guess you're
lazy. How soft and good those pillows do look to be sure.
Come, Ellen, try getting up a little. I believe you hurt
yourself with sleeping; it'll do you good to be out of bed
awhile; come, get up!"
She pulled Ellen's arm as she spoke.
"Stop, Nancy — let me alone!" cried Ellen, struggling with all
her force — "I musn't — I can't! I musn't get up! What do you
mean? I'm not able to sit up at all; let me go!"
She succeeded in freeing herself from Nancy's grasp.
Pages:
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353