withdrawn, and the mother and daughter were happily alone.
Mrs. Montgomery knew that such occasions were numbered, and
fast drawing to an end, and she felt each one to be very
precious. She now lay on her couch, with her face partially
shaded, and her eyes fixed upon her little daughter, who was
now preparing the tea. She watched her, with thoughts and
feelings not to be spoken, as the little figure went back and
forward between the table and the fire, and the light shining
full upon her face, showed that Ellen's whole soul was in her
beloved duty. Tears would fall as she looked, and were not
wiped away; but when Ellen, having finished her work, brought
with a satisfied face the little tray of tea and toast to her
mother, there was no longer any sign of them left; Mrs.
Montgomery arose with her usual kind smile, to show her
gratitude by honouring, as far as possible, what Ellen had
provided.

"You have more appetite to-night, Mamma."

"I am very glad, daughter," replied her mother, "to see that
you have made up your mind to bear patiently this evil that
has come upon us. I am glad for your sake, and I am glad for
mine; and I am glad, too, because we have a great deal to do,
and no time to lose in doing it."

"What, have we so much to do, Mamma?" said Ellen.

"Oh, many things," said her mother, "you will see. But now,
Ellen, if there is anything you wish to talk to me about, any
question you want to ask, anything you would like particularly