That week
did them all good, and no one more than Ellen.
It was a little hard to go back to Miss Fortune's, and begin
her old life there. She went on the evening of the day John
had departed. They were at supper.
"Well!" said Miss Fortune, as Ellen entered, "have you got
enough of visiting? I should be ashamed to go where I wasn't
wanted, for my part."
"I haven't, Aunt Fortune," said Ellen.
"She's been nowhere but what's done her good," said Mr. Van
Brunt; "she's reely growed handsome since she's been away."
"Grown a fiddlestick!" said Miss Fortune.
"She couldn't grow handsomer than she was before," said the
old grandmother, hugging and kissing her little grand-daughter
with great delight; — "the sweetest posie in the garden she
always was!"
Mr. Van Brunt looked as if he entirely agreed with the old
lady. That, while it made some amends for Miss Fortune's
dryness, perhaps increased it. She remarked, that "she thanked
Heaven she could always make herself contented at home;" which
Ellen could not help thinking was a happiness for the rest of
the world.
In the matter of the collar, it was hard to say whether the
giver or receiver had the most satisfaction. Ellen had begged
him not to speak of it to her aunt; and accordingly, one
Sunday, when he came there with it on, both he and she were in
a state of exquisite delight. Miss Fortune's attention was at
last aroused; she made a particular review of him, and ended
it by declaring, that "he looked uncommonly dandified, but she
could not make out what he had done to himself;" a remark
which transported Mr.
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