"What are you thinking about, Ellen?" said she, one morning.

Ellen was sewing, and while busy at her work her mother had
two or three times observed a light smile pass over her face.
Ellen looked up, still smiling, and answered, "Oh, Mamma, I
was thinking of different things — things that I mean to do
while you are gone."

"And what are these things?" inquired her mother.

"Oh, Mamma, it wouldn't do to tell you beforehand; I want to
surprise you with them when you come back."

A slight shudder passed over Mrs. Montgomery's frame, but
Ellen did not see it. Mrs. Montgomery was silent. Ellen
presently introduced another subject.

"Mamma, what kind of a person is my aunt?"

"I do not know — I have never seen her."

"How has that happened, Mamma?"

"Your aunt has always lived in a remote country town, and I
have been very much confined to two or three cities, and your
father's long and repeated absences made travelling impossible
to me."

Ellen thought, but she didn't say it, that it was very odd her
father should not sometimes, when he _was_ in the country, have