Ellen grew rosy, and
hardy, and in spite of her separation from her mother, she was
very happy, too. Her extreme and varied occupation made this
possible. She had no time to indulge useless sorrow; on the
contrary, her thoughts were taken up with agreeable matters,
either doing or to be done; and at night, she was far too
tired and sleepy to lie awake musing. And besides she hoped
that her mother would come back in the spring, or the summer
at farthest. It is true Ellen had no liking for the kind of
business her aunt gave her — it was often-times a trial of
temper and patience. Miss Fortune was not the pleasantest
work-mistress in the world, and Ellen was apt to wish to be
doing something else; but, after all, this was not amiss.
Besides, the discipline of character, these trials made the
pleasant things with which they were mixed up seem doubly
pleasant — the disagreeable parts of her life relished the
agreeable wonderfully. After spending the whole morning with
Miss Fortune in the depths of house-work, how delightful it
was to forget all in drawing some nice little cottage, with a
bit of stone wall, and a barrel in front! or to go with Alice,
in thought, to the south of France, and learn how the peasants
manage their vines, and make the wine from them; or run over
the Rock of Gibraltar with the monkeys; or, at another time,
seated on a little bench in the chimney corner, when the fire
blazed up well, before the candles were lighted, to forget the
kitchen, and the supper, and her bustling aunt, and sail round
the world with Captain Cook.
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