failed her, and tears came instead.

From among a great many desks of all descriptions, Mrs.
Montgomery with some difficulty succeeded in choosing one to
her mind. It was of mahogany, not very large, but thoroughly
well made and finished, and very convenient and perfect in its
internal arrangements. Ellen was speechless; occasional looks
at her mother, and deep sighs, were all she had now to offer.
The desk was quite empty.

"Ellen," said her mother, "do you remember the furniture of
Miss Allen's desk, that you were so pleased with a while ago?"

"Perfectly, Mamma; I know all that was in it."

"Well, then, you must prompt me if I forget anything. Your
desk will be furnished with everything really useful. Merely
showy matters we can dispense with. Now let us see — here is a
great empty place that I think wants some paper to fill it.
Show me some of different sizes, if you please."

The shopman obeyed, and Mrs. Montgomery stocked the desk well
with letter-paper, large and small. Ellen looked on in great
satisfaction. "That will do nicely," she said; "that large
paper will be beautiful whenever I am writing to you, Mamma,
you know; and the other will do for other times, when I
haven't so much to say; though I am sure I don't know who
there is in the world I should ever send letters to, except
you."