The Wide, Wide World. Warner Susan

am not likely to know anything," said she, her countenance suddenly changing from its pleased inquisitive look to a cloud of disappointment and sorrow. Mr. Van Brunt noticed the change.

      "Ain't your aunt going to send you to school, then?" said he.

      "I don't know," said Ellen, sighing; "she never speaks about it, nor about anything else. But I declare I'll make her!" she exclaimed, changing again. "I'll go right in and ask her, and then she'll have to tell me. I will! I am tired of living so. I'll know what she means to do, and then I can tell you what I must do."

      Mr. Van Brunt, seemingly dubious about the success of this line of conduct, stroked his chin and his axe alternately two or three times in silence, and finally walked off. Ellen, without waiting for her courage to cool, went directly into the house.

      Miss Fortune, however, was not in the kitchen; to follow her into her secret haunts, the dairy, cellar, or lower kitchen, was not to be thought of. Ellen waited awhile, but her aunt did not come, and the excitement of the moment cooled down. She was not quite so ready to enter upon the business as she had felt at first; she had even some qualms about it.

      "But I'll do it," said Ellen to herself; "it will be hard, but I'll do it!"

      CHAPTER XIV

      For my part, he keeps me here rustically

      At home, or, to speak more properly, stays

      Me here at home unkept.

– As You Like It.

      The next morning after breakfast Ellen found the chance she rather dreaded than wished for. Mr. Van Brunt had gone out; the old lady had not left her room, and Miss Fortune was quietly seated by the fire, busied with some mysteries of cooking. Like a true coward, Ellen could not make up her mind to bolt at once into the thick of the matter, but thought to come to it gradually – always a bad way.

      "What is that, Aunt Fortune?" said she, after she had watched her with a beating heart for about five minutes.

      "What is what?"

      "I mean, what is that you are straining through the colander into that jar?"

      "Hop-water."

      "What is it for?"

      "I'm scalding this meal with it to make turnpikes."

      "Turnpikes!" said Ellen; "I thought turnpikes were high, smooth roads with toll-gates every now and then – that's what mamma told me they were."

      "That's all the kind of turnpikes your mamma knew anything about, I reckon," said Miss Fortune, in a tone that conveyed the notion that Mrs. Montgomery's education had been very incomplete. "And indeed," she added immediately after, "if she had made more turnpikes and paid fewer tolls, it would have been just as well, I'm thinking."

      Ellen felt the tone, if she did not thoroughly understand the words. She was silent a moment; then remembering her purpose, she began again. "What are these, then, Aunt Fortune?"

      "Cakes, child, cakes! turnpike cakes – what I raise the bread with."

      "What, those little brown cakes I have seen you melt in water and mix in the flour when you make bread?"

      "Mercy on us! yes! you've seen hundreds of 'em since you've been here, if you never saw one before."

      "I never did," said Ellen. "But what are they called turnpikes for?"

      "The land knows! I don't. For mercy's sake stop asking me questions, Ellen; I don't know what's got into you; you'll drive me crazy."

      "But there's one more question I want to ask very much," said Ellen, with her heart beating.

      "Well, ask it then quick, and have done, and take yourself off. I have other fish to fry than to answer all your questions."

      Miss Fortune, however, was still quietly seated by the fire stirring her meal and hop-water, and Ellen could not be quick; the words stuck in her throat – came out at last.

      "Aunt Fortune, I wanted to ask you if I may go to school?"

      "Yes."

      Ellen's heart sprang with a feeling of joy, a little qualified by the peculiar dry tone in which the word was uttered.

      "When may I go?"

      "As soon as you like."

      "Oh, thank you, ma'am. To which school shall I go, Aunt Fortune?"

      "To whichever you like."

      "But I don't know anything about them," said Ellen; "how can I tell which is best?"

      Miss Fortune was silent.

      "What schools are there near here?" said Ellen.

      "There's Captain Conklin's down at the Cross, and Miss Emerson's at Thirlwall."

      Ellen hesitated. The name was against her, but nevertheless she concluded on the whole that the lady's school would be the pleasantest.

      "Is Miss Emerson any relation of yours?" she asked.

      "No."

      "I think I should like to go to her school the best. I will go there if you will let me – may I?"

      "Yes."

      "And I will begin next Monday – may I?"

      "Yes."

      Ellen wished exceedingly that her aunt would speak in some other tone of voice; it was a continual damper to her rising hopes.

      "I'll get my books ready," said she; "and look 'em over a little too, I guess. But what will be the best way for me to go, Aunt Fortune?"

      "I don't know."

      "I couldn't walk so far, could I?"

      "You know best."

      "I couldn't, I am sure," said Ellen; "it's four miles to Thirlwall, Mr. Van Brunt said; that would be too much for me to walk twice a day; and I should be afraid besides."

      A dead silence.

      "But, Aunt Fortune, do please tell me what I am to do. How can I know unless you tell me? What way is there that I can go to school?"

      "It is unfortunate that I don't keep a carriage," said Miss Fortune; "but Mr. Van Brunt can go for you morning and evening in the ox-cart, if that will answer."

      "The ox-cart! But, dear me! it would take him all day, Aunt Fortune. It takes hours and hours to go and come with the oxen; Mr. Van Brunt wouldn't have time to do anything but carry me to school and bring me home."

      "Of course; but that's of no consequence," said Miss Fortune, in the same dry tone.

      "Then I can't go – there's no help for it," said Ellen despondingly. "Why didn't you say so before. When you said yes I thought you meant yes."

      She covered her face. Miss Fortune rose with a half smile and carried her jar of scalded meal into the pantry. She then came back and commenced the operation of washing-up the breakfast things.

      "Ah, if I only had a little pony," said Ellen, "that would carry me there and back, and go trotting about with me everywhere – how nice that would be!"

      "Yes, that would be very nice! And who do you think would go trotting about after the pony? I suppose you would leave that to Mr. Van Brunt; and I should have to go trotting about after you, to pick you up in case you broke your neck in some ditch or gully; it would be a very nice affair altogether, I think."

      Ellen was silent. Her hopes had fallen to the ground, and her disappointment was unsoothed by one word of kindness or sympathy. With all her old grievances fresh in her mind, she sat thinking her aunt was the very most disagreeable person she ever had the misfortune to meet with. No amiable feelings were working within her; and the cloud on her brow was of displeasure and disgust, as well as sadness and sorrow. Her aunt saw it.

      "What are you thinking of?" said she rather sharply.

      "I am thinking," said Ellen, "I am very sorry I cannot go to school."

      "Why, what do you want to learn so much? You know how to read and write and cipher, don't you?"

      "Read