The Wide, Wide World. Warner Susan

that lives a little way out of town."

      "Miss Fortune Emerson? yes, I know her. What of her?"

      "Has she been here to-day?"

      "Here? what, in town? No not as I've seen or heard. Why, who wants her?"

      "This little girl."

      And the man with the broom stepping back, disclosed Ellen to the view of the red-faced landlord. He advanced a step or two towards her.

      "What do you want with Miss Fortune, little one?" said he.

      "I expected she would meet me here, Sir," said Ellen

      "Where have you come from?"

      "From New York."

      "The stage set her down just now," put in the other man.

      "And you thought Miss Fortune would meet you, did you?"

      "Yes, Sir; she was to meet me and take me home."

      "Take you home! Are you going to Miss Fortune's home?"

      "Yes, Sir."

      "Why, you don't belong to her, any way, do you?"

      "No, Sir," said Ellen, "but she's my aunt."

      "She's your what?"

      "My aunt, Sir my father's sister."

      "You father's sister! You ben't the daughter of Morgan

       Montgomery, be you?"

      "Yes, I am," said Ellen, half-smiling.

      "And you are come to make a visit to Miss Fortune, eh?"

      "Yes," said Ellen, smiling no longer.

      "And Miss Fortune han't come up to meet you! that's real shabby of her; and how to get you down there to-night, I am sure is more than I can tell." And he shouted, "Wife!"

      "What's the matter, Mr. Forbes?" said a fat landlady, appearing in the doorway, which she filled near as well as her husband would have done.

      "Look here," said Mr. Forbes "here's Morgan Montgomery's daughter come to pay a visit to her aunt Fortune Emerson. Don't you think she'll be glad to see her?"

      Mr. Forbes put this question with rather a curious look at his wife. She didn't answer him. She only looked at Ellen, looked grave, and gave a queer little nod of her head, which meant, Ellen could not make out what.

      "Now, what's to be done?" continued Mr. Forbes. "Miss Fortune was to have come up to meet her, but she ain't here, and I don't know how in the world I can take the child down there to-night. The horses are both out to plough, you know; and besides, the tire is come off that waggon-wheel. I couldn't possibly use it. And then it's a great question in my mind what Miss Fortune would say to me. I should get paid, I s'pose?"

      "Yes, you'd get paid," said his wife, with another little shake of her head; "but whether it would be the kind of pay you'd like, I don't know."

      "Well, what's to be done, wife? Keep the child overnight, and send word down yonder?"

      "No," said Mrs. Forbes, "I'll tell you. I think I saw Van Brunt go by two or three hours ago with the ox-cart, and I guess he's somewhere up town yet; I han't seen him go back. He can take the child home with him. Sam!" shouted Mrs. Forbes "Sam! here! Sam, run up street directly, and see if you see Mr. Van Brunt's ox-cart standing anywhere I dare say he's at Mr. Miller's, or maybe at Mr. Hammersley's, the blacksmith and ask him to stop here before he goes home. Now hurry! and don't run over him, and then come back and tell me he ain't in town."

      Mrs. Forbes herself followed Sam to the door, and cast an exploring look in every direction.

      "I don't see no signs of him up nor down," said she, returning to Ellen; "but I'm pretty sure he ain't gone home. Come in here come in here, dear, and make yourself comfortable; it'll be a while yet, maybe, afore Mr. Van Brunt comes, but he'll be along by-and-by; come in here and rest yourself."

      She opened a door, and Ellen followed her into a large kitchen, where a fire was burning, that showed wood must be plenty in those regions. Mrs. Forbes placed a low chair for her on the hearth, but herself remained standing by the side of the fire, looking earnestly, and with a good deal of interest, upon the little stranger. Ellen drew her white bonnet from her head, and sitting down with a wearied air, gazed sadly into the flames that were shedding their light upon her.

      "Are you going to stop a good while with Miss Fortune?" said

       Mrs. Forbes.

      "I don't know, Maam yes, I believe so," said Ellen, faintly.

      "Han't you got no mother?" asked Mrs. Forbes, suddenly, after a pause.

      "Oh, yes!" said Ellen, looking up. But the question had touched the sore spot. Her head sank on her hands, and "Oh, Mamma!" was uttered with a bitterness that even Mrs. Forbes could feel.

      "Now, what made me ask you that!" said she. "Don't cry! don't, love; poor little dear! you're as pale as a sheet; you're tired, I know ain't you? Now, cheer up, do I can't bear to see you cry. You've come a great way to-day, han't you?"

      Ellen nodded her head, but could give no answer.

      "I know what will do you good," said Mrs. Forbes, presently, getting up from the crouching posture she had taken to comfort Ellen; "you want something to eat that's the matter. I'll warrant you're half starved; no wonder you feel bad. Poor little thing! you shall have something good directly."

      And away she bustled to get it. Left alone, Ellen's tears flowed a few minutes very fast. She felt forlorn; and she was, besides, as Mrs. Forbes opined, both tired and faint. But she did not wish to be found weeping; she checked her tears, and was sitting again quietly before the fire when the landlady returned.

      Mrs. Forbes had a great bowl of milk in one hand, and a plate of bread in the other, which she placed on the kitchen table, and setting a chair, called Ellen to come and partake of it.

      "Come, dear here is something that will do you good. I thought there was a piece of pie in the buttery, and so there was, but Mr. Forbes must have got hold of it, for it ain't there now; and there ain't a bit of cake in the house for you; but I thought maybe you would like this as well as anything. Come!"

      Ellen thanked her, but said she did not want anything.

      "Oh, yes, you do," said Mrs. Forbes; "I know better. You're as pale as I don't know what. Come! this'll put roses in your cheeks. Don't you like bread and milk?"

      "Yes, very much indeed, Maam," said Ellen; "but I'm not hungry."

      She rose, however, and came to the table.

      "Oh, well, try to eat a bit, just to please me. It's real good country milk not a bit of cream off. You don't get such milk as that in the city, I guess. That's right! I see the roses coming back to your cheeks already?"

      "Is your pa in New York now?"

      "Yes, Maam."

      "You expect your pa and ma up to Thirlwall by-and-by, don't you?"

      "No, Maam."

      Mrs. Forbes was surprised, and longed to ask why not, and what Ellen had come for; but the shade that had passed over her face as she answered the last question, warned the landlady she was getting upon dangerous ground.

      "Does your aunt expect you to-night?"

      "I believe so, Maam I don't know she was to have met me; papa said he would write."

      "Oh, well! maybe something hindered her from coming. It's no matter; you'll get home just as well. Mr. Van Brunt will be here soon, I guess; it's 'most time for him to be along."

      She went to the front door to look out for him, but returned without any news. A few minutes passed in silence, for, though full of curiosity, the good landlady dared not ask what she wanted to know, for fear of again exciting the sorrow of her little companion. She contented herself with