The Wide, Wide World

at is t

t odds with mornin

cbe

had passed. They had read together, prayed together, talked together a great deal, and the evening had been spent in singing hymns; but Mrs. Montgomery's strength failed here, and Ellen sang alone. She was not soon weary. Hymn succeeded hymn with fresh and varied pleasure, and her mother could not tire of listening. The sweet words, and the sweet airs-which were all old friends, and brought of themselves many a lesson of wisdom and consolation, by the mere force of association-needed not the recommendation o

rael sows

ion, pain,

g up and ch

else o'erspr

e the prom

e new life

ing me to

, and keep

nt cause to thank Him for all the evils He has made me suffer heretofore, and I do not doubt it will be the same with this last and worst one. Let us glorify Him in the fires, my daugh

n tearful silence to the one and the other of her mother's cheeks alternately. How sweet the sense of the coming parting made every such embrace! This one, for particular reasons, was often and long reme

t you will you can't help that." It was just upon the stroke of ten, and Mrs. Montgomery was still wrapped in her deep musings, when a sharp, brisk footstep in the distance aroused her, rapidly approaching; and she knew very well whose it was, and that it would pause at the door, before she heard the quick run up the steps, succeeded by her husband's tread upon the staircase. And yet she saw him open the door with a kind of startled feeling, which his appearance now invariably caused her

announcement gave his poor wife! But she only closed her

g the poker in his hand began to

is-I'll take passage in the England the first thing to-morrow. And this is the best possible chance for Ellen-everyt

s. Montgomery, forci

and take her straight home. Couldn't be anything better. I'll write to let Fortune know when to expect her. Mrs. Dunscombe is a lady of the first family and fashion-in the highest degree respectable; she is going on to Fort Jameson, with her daughter and a servant, and her

on does

re is no help for it; and after all it is a great deal better so than if you h

Mrs. Montgomery, wi

st go, he told me, to-morrow morning; and we arranged that she

hands to her face and sa

It is a great deal better as it is-a great deal better than if she had a long warning. You

knowing the necessity, she strove hard for it. For several minutes she remained quite silent and quiet, endeavouring to collect

in his turn; "what on earth for? Th

elling her until to-morrow mo

ght in useless grieving?-unfitting her utterly for her journey, and doing yourself more harm than you can undo in a week

o dreadfully shock

eel it. In the hurry and bustle of getting off she will not have time to think abo

looked undecided

ken her, absolutely. It would not do at all," said the captain, poking

silently rose

into Ellen's room

t put her thi

llen?" said he, in a tone

I can

that Ellen would need to wear, the dark merino, the new nankeen coat, the white bonnet, the clean frill that her own hands had done up, the little gloves and shoes, and all the etceteras, with the thoughtfulness and the carefulness of love; but it went through and through her heart that it was the very last time a mother's fingers would ever be busy in arranging or preparing Ellen's attire; the very last time she would ever see or touch even the little inanimate things that belonged to her; and painful as the task was, she was loth to have it come to an end. It was with a kind of lingering unwillingness t

as if she knew she was looking her last; then she knelt by the bedside and hid her face in the coverings,-but no tears came; the struggle in her mind and her anxious fear for the morning's trial made weeping impossible. Her husband at length came to seek her, and it was well he did; she would have remained there on her knees all night. He feared something of the kind, and came to prevent it. Mrs. Montgomery suffered herself to be led away without making any opposition, and went to bed as usual, but sleep was far from her. The fear of Ellen's distress when she would be awakened and suddenly told the truth kept her in an agony. In restless wakefulness she tossed and turned uneasily upon her bed, watching for the

e heavily, and not over well

me to wak

relapsing; "it isn't ti

omery; "I am sure it is. I see t

e dawn these two hours. Wait till I find my repeater, and I'll convince you." He found and struck it. "There! I told you so-only one

d thoughts succeeding thoughts in a more regular train, at last fairly cheated her into sleep, much as she wished to keep it off. She slept soundly for nearly an hour, and when she awoke the dawn had really begun to break in the eastern sky. She again arous

er mind brushing your hair till afterwards. She will have no time

re's plenty of time. Do quiet yourself; you're get

be as brief as possible, and the grey streaks of light in the east were plainly showing themselves when he opened the door of his little daughter's room. He found her lying very much as her mother had left her-in the same quiet sleep and with the same expression of calmness and peace spread over her whole face and person. I

ep, and the shadow cam

n! El

ishment at first with which she regarded her father, but very soon indeed that changed into one of blank despair. He saw that she unde

dress. There's no time to lose now, for the carriage will soo

m, and began to put on

tain Dunscombe, whom you saw here the other day, you know; and her daughter is going with her, so you will have charming company. I dare say you will enjoy the journey very m

ouragement, her

?" asked Mrs. Montgo

ng but that she would made a great fuss; but she has all the old spirit tha

more truly than he the signs of them; the conclusions she drew from Ellen's silent and tearless reception of the news differed

eaning against the bed-post, for she could not sit down, watching with most intense anxiety to hear her father's step come out of the room and go downstairs. Every minute seemed too long to be borne; poor Ellen began to feel as if she could not contain herself. Yet five had not passed away when she heard the roll of carriage-wheels which came to the door and then stopped, and immediately her father opening the door to come out. Without waiting any longer Ellen opened her own, and brushed past him into the room he had quitted. Mrs. Montgomery was still lying on the bed, for her husband had insisted on her not rising. She said not a word, but opened her arms to receive her little daughter; and with a cry of indescribable expression Ellen sprang upon the bed, and was folded in them. But then neither of them spoke or wept. What could words say? Heart met heart in that agony, for each knew all that was in the other. No,-not quite all. Ellen did n

te cry of mixed affection and despair, when Captain Montgomery's step was again heard slowly ascending the stairs. "He is coming to

the words were uttered as if nothing had been the matter, only her voice fell a little towards the last

ot do it at first; and Ellen seemed not to hear anything that was said to her. He was very unwilling to use harshness; and after a little, though she had paid no attention to his entreaties or commands, yet sensible of the necessity of the case, she gradually relaxed her hold and suffered him to draw her away from her mother's arms. He carried her downstair

kind of apologising way; "she will soon get ove

was making his parting bow, she added, in no very pleased tone of voice,

is? Hasn't she a bonnet? I beg a thousand pa

was found, but the captain ove

ou have been delay

the boat yet," replied the lad

Montgomery-a very slight one fr

kon she don't thank me for her travelling companion. But Ellen's off-t