by this first real trial. Perhaps, too, her sorrow was
sharpened by a sense of wrong, and a feeling of indignation at
her father's cruelty in not waking her earlier.

Not many minutes had passed in this sad embrace, and no word
had yet been spoken; no sound uttered, except Ellen's first
inarticulate cry of mixed affection and despair, when Captain
Montgomery's step was again heard slowly ascending the stairs.
"He is coming to take me away!" thought Ellen; and in terror
lest she should go without a word from her mother, she burst
forth with, "Mamma! speak!"

A moment before, and Mrs. Montgomery could not have spoken.
But she could now; and as clearly and calmly the words were
uttered as if nothing had been the matter, only her voice fell
a little toward the last.

"God bless my darling child! and make her his own — and bring
her to that home where parting cannot be!"

Ellen's eyes had been dry until now; but when she heard the
sweet sound of her mother's voice, it opened all the fountains
of tenderness within her. She burst into uncontrollable
weeping; it seemed as if she would pour out her very heart in
tears; and she clung to her mother with a force that made it a
difficult task for her father to remove her. He could not do
it at first; and Ellen seemed not to hear any thing 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