"Oh! I can't be bothered to be running upstairs to fill snuff-
boxes," answered that lady; "you'll have to wait."
"I'll get it, Grandma," said Ellen, "if you'll tell me where."
"Sit down, and be quiet!" said Miss Fortune; "you go into my
room just when I bid you, and not till then."
Ellen sat down. But no sooner was Miss Fortune hid in the
buttery, than the old lady beckoned her to her side, and
nodding her head a great many times, gave her the box, saying,
softly —
"You can run up now; she won't see you, deary. It's in a jar
in the closet. Now's the time."
Ellen could not bear to say no. She hesitated a minute, and
then boldly opened the buttery door.
"Keep out! — what do you want?"
"She wanted me to go for the snuff," said Ellen, in a whisper;
"please, do let me — I won't look at anything, nor touch
anything, but just get the snuff."
With an impatient gesture, her aunt snatched the box from her
hand, pushed Ellen out of the buttery, and shut the door. The
old lady kissed and fondled her, as if she had done what she
had only tried to do; smoothed down her hair, praising its
beauty, and whispered —
"Never mind, deary — you'll read to Grandma, won't you?"
It cost Ellen no effort now. With the beginning of kind
offices to her poor old parent, kind feeling had sprung up
fast; instead of disliking and shunning, she had begun to love
her.
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