"Mamma! — are you cold in this warm room?"

"A little, — there, that will do. Now, my daughter, let me be
quiet a while — don't disturb me."

There was no one else in the room. Driven thus to her own
resources, Ellen betook herself to the window, and sought
amusement there. The prospect without gave little promise of
it. Rain was falling, and made the street and everything in it
look dull and gloomy. The foot-passengers plashed through the
water, and the horses and carriages plashed through the mud;
gaiety had forsaken the side-walks, and equipages were few,
and the people that were out were plainly there only because
they could not help it. But yet Ellen, having seriously set
herself to study everything that passed, presently became
engaged in her occupation; and her thoughts travelling
dreamily from one thing to another, she sat for a long time
with her little face pressed against the window-frame,
perfectly regardless of all but the moving world without.

Daylight gradually faded away, and the street wore a more and
more gloomy aspect. The rain poured, and now only an
occasional carriage or footstep disturbed the sound of its
steady pattering. Yet still Ellen sat with her face glued to
the window as if spell-bound, gazing out at every dusky form
that passed, as though it had some strange interest for her.
At length, in the distance, light after light began to appear;
presently Ellen could see the dim figure of the lamplighter
crossing the street, from side to side, with his ladder; then