The Wide, Wide World. Warner Susan

She had had nothing to eat, and had been violently excited that day. A little while she sat in a dreamy sort of quietude then her thoughts grew misty and the end of it was she dropped her head against the arm of her friend, and fell fast asleep. He smiled at first, but one look at the very pale little face changed the expression of his own. He gently put his arm round her, and drew her head to a better resting-place than it had chosen.

      And there she slept till the dinner-bell rang. Timmins was sent out to look for her, but Timmins did not choose to meddle with the grave protector Ellen seemed to have gained; and Mrs. Dunscombe declared herself rejoiced that any other hands should have taken the charge of her.

      After dinner Ellen and her friend went up to the promenade- deck again, and there, for a while, they paced up and down, enjoying the pleasant air and quick motion, and the lovely appearance of everything in the mild hazy sunlight. Another gentleman, however, joining them, and entering into conversation, Ellen silently quitted her friend's hand, and went and sat down at the side of the boat. After taking a few turns more, and while still engaged in talking, he drew his little hymn-book out of his pocket, and, with a smile, put it into Ellen's hand as he passed. She gladly received it, and spent an hour or more very pleasantly, in studying and turning it over. At the end of that time, the stranger having left him, Ellen's friend came and sat down by her side.

      "How do you like my little book?" said he.

      "Oh, very much indeed, Sir."

      "Then you love hymns, do you?"

      "Yes, I do Sir, dearly."

      "Do you sometimes learn them by heart?"

      "Oh yes, Sir, often. Mamma often made me. I have learnt two since I have been sitting here."

      "Have you?" said he; "which are they?"

      "One of them is the one you showed me this morning, Sir."

      "And what is your mind now about the question I asked you this morning?"

      Ellen cast down her eyes from his inquiring glance, and answered, in a low tone, "Just what it was then, Sir."

      "Have you been thinking of it since?"

      "I have thought of it the whole time, Sir."

      "And are you resolved you will obey Christ henceforth?"

      "I am resolved to try, Sir."

      "My dear Ellen, if you are in earnest, you will not try in vain. He never yet failed any that sincerely sought him. Have you a Bible?"

      "Oh yes Sir! a beautiful one; Mamma gave it to me the other day."

      He took the hymn-book from her hand, and turning over the leaves, marked several places in pencil.

      "I am going to give you this," he said, "that it may serve to remind you of what we have talked of to-day, and of your resolution."

      Ellen flushed high with pleasure.

      "I have put this mark," said he, showing her a particular one, "in a few places of this book, for you; wherever you find it, you may know there is something I want you to take special notice of. There are some other marks here too, but they are mine these are for you."

      "Thank you, Sir," said Ellen, delighted; "I shall not forget."

      He knew from her face what she meant not the marks.

      The day wore on, thanks to the unwearied kindness of her friend, with great comparative comfort to Ellen. Late in the afternoon they were resting from a long walk up and down the deck.

      "What have you got in this package that you take such care of?" said he, smiling.

      "Oh, candies," said Ellen; "I am always forgetting them. I meant to ask you to take some. Will you have some, Sir?"

      "Thank you. What are they?"

      "Almost all kinds, I believe, Sir I think the almonds are the best."

      He took one.

      "Pray, take some more, Sir," said Ellen "I don't care for them in the least."

      "Then I am more of a child than you in this, at any rate for I do care for them. But I have a little headache to-day; I mustn't meddle with sweets."

      "Then take some for to-morrow, Sir please do," said Ellen, dealing them out very freely.

      "Stop, stop!" said he "not a bit more; this won't do I must put some of these back again; you'll want them to-morrow, too."

      "I don't think I shall," said Ellen; "I haven't wanted to touch them to-day."

      "Oh, you'll feel brighter to-morrow, after a night's sleep. But aren't you afraid of catching cold? This wind is blowing pretty fresh, and you've been bonnetless all day what's the reason?"

      Ellen looked down, and coloured a good deal.

      "What's the matter?" said he, laughing; "has any mischief befallen your bonnet?"

      "No, Sir," said Ellen, in a low tone, her colour mounting higher and higher "it was laughed at, this morning."

      "Laughed at! who laughed at it?"

      "Mrs. Dunscombe, and her daughter, and her maid."

      "Did they! I don't see much reason in that, I confess. What did they think was the matter with it?"

      "I don't know, Sir; they said it was outlandish, and what a figure I looked in it!"

      "Well, certainly that was not very polite. Put it on, and let me see." Ellen obeyed.

      "I am not the best judge of ladies' bonnets, it is true," said he, "but I can see nothing about it that is not perfectly proper and suitable nothing in the world. So that is what has kept you bareheaded all day? Didn't your mother wish you to wear that bonnet?"

      "Yes, Sir."

      "Then that ought to be enough for you. Will you be ashamed of what she approved, because some people, that haven't probably half her sense, choose to make merry with it? is that right?" he said, gently. "Is that honouring her as she deserves?"

      "No, Sir," said Ellen, looking up into his face, "but I never thought of that before I am sorry."

      "Never mind being laughed at, my child. If your mother says a thing is right, that's enough for you let them laugh."

      "I won't be ashamed of my bonnet any more," said Ellen, trying it on; "but they made me very unhappy about it, and very angry, too."

      "I am sorry for that," said her friend, gravely. "Have you quite got over it, Ellen?"

      "Oh yes, Sir long ago."

      "Are you sure?"

      "I am not angry now, Sir."

      "Is there no unkindness left towards the people who laughed at you?"

      "I don't like them much," said Ellen "how can I?"

      "You cannot, of course, like the company of ill-behaved people, and I do not wish that you should; but you can and ought to feel just as kindly disposed towards them as if they had never offended you just as willing and inclined to please them or do them good. Now, could you offer Miss what's her name? some of your candies with as hearty goodwill as you could before she laughed at you?"

      "No, Sir, I couldn't. I don't feel as if I ever wished to see them again."

      "Then, my dear Ellen, you have something to do, if you were in earnest in the resolve you made this morning. 'If ye forgive unto men their trespasses, my Heavenly Father will also forgive you; but if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will my Father forgive your trespasses.' "

      He was silent, and so was Ellen, for some time. His words had raised a struggle in her mind; and she kept her face turned towards the shore, so that her bonnet shielded it from view; but she did not in the least know what she was looking at. The sun had been some time descending through a sky of cloudless splendour,