Blessing, as she did, the breast on
which she leaned, and the arms whose pressure she felt, they
yet reminded her sadly of those most loved and so very far
away; and it was an odd mixture of relief and regret, joy and
sorrow, gratified and ungratified affection, that opened the
sluices of her eyes. Tears poured.
"What is the matter, my love?" said Alice, softly.
"I don't know," whispered Ellen.
"Are you so glad to see me? or so sorry? or what is it?"
"Oh, glad and sorry both, I think!" said Ellen, with a long
breath, and sitting up.
"Have you wanted me so much, my poor child?"
"I cannot tell you how much," said Ellen, her words cut short.
"And didn't you know that I have been sick, too? What did you
think had become of me? Why, Mrs. Vawse was with me a whole
week, and this is the very first day I have been able to go
out. It is so fine to-day, I was permitted to ride Sharp
down."
"Was that it?" said Ellen. "I did wonder, Miss Alice — I did
wonder very much why you did not come to see me, but I never
liked to ask Aunt Fortune, because —"
"Because what?"
"I don't know as I ought to say what I was going to; I had a
feeling she would be glad about what I was sorry about."
"Don't know _that_ you ought to say," said Alice. "Remember, you
are to study English with me."
Ellen smiled a glad smile.
"And you have had a weary two weeks of it, haven't you, dear?"
"Oh," said Ellen, with another long-drawn sigh, "how weary!
Part of that time, to be sure, I was out of my head; but I
have got _so_ tired lying here all alone; Aunt Fortune coming in
and out, was just as good as nobody.
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