Her eye lit upon words she knew very well, but that were
like the fresh sight of a friend's face for all that, — "Let
not your heart be troubled; ye believe in God, believe also in
me. In my Father's house are many mansions." There is no
parting there, thought little Ellen. She cried a long time,
but she was comforted, nevertheless. The heart that rests on
the blessed One who said those words can never be quite
desolate.
For several days things went on in the old train, only her
aunt, she thought, was sometimes rather queer — not quite as
usual in her manner towards her. Mr. Van Brunt was not _rather_,
but _very_ queer; he scarce spoke or looked at Ellen; bolted
down his food, and was off without a word; and even stayed
away entirely from two or three meals. She saw nobody else.
Weather and other circumstances prevented her going to the
mountain.
One afternoon, she was giving her best attention to a French
lesson, when she heard herself called. Miss Fortune was in the
lower kitchen, dipping candles. Ellen ran down.
"I don't know what's got into these candles," said Miss
Fortune. — "I can't make 'em hang together; the tallow ain't
good, I guess. Where's the nearest place they keep bees?"
"They have got bees at Mrs. Hitchcock's," said Ellen.
"So they have in Egypt, for anything I know," said her aunt;
"one would be about as much good now as t'other.
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