The Wide, Wide World

"It is very pleasant, dear Ellie! Home will not look disagreeable again, will it? even after all our gaiety here."

"No, indeed! at least your home won't; I don't know what mine will. Oh me! I had almost forgotten Aunt Fortune!"

"Never mind, dear Ellie! You and I have each something to bear; we must be brave and bear it manfully. There is a Friend that sticketh closer than a brother, you know. We shan't be unhappy if we do our duty and love Him."

"How soon is Mr. John going away?"

"Not for all next week. And so long as he stays, I do not mean that you shall leave me."

Ellen cried for joy.

"I can manage it with Miss Fortune, I know," said Alice. "These fine drawing lessons must not be interrupted. John is very much pleased with your performances."

"Is he?" said Ellen, delighted; "I have taken all the pains I could."

"That is the sure way to success, Ellie. But, Ellie, I want to ask you about something. What was that you said to Margaret Dunscombe about wanting money for a New Year's present?"

"You know it, then!" cried Ellen, starting up. "Oh, I am so glad! I wanted to speak to you about it so, I didn't know what to do, and I thought I oughtn't to. What shall I do about it, dear Alice? How did you know? George said you were not there."

"Mrs. Chauncey told me; she thought there had been some mistake, or something wrong; how was it, Ellen?"

"Why," said Ellen, "she was showing us her ear-rings, and asking us what we thought of them, and she asked me if I wouldn't like to have such a pair; and I thought I would a great deal rather have the money they cost, to buy other things with, you know, that I would like better; and I said so; and just then Mr. Marshman came in, and she called out to him, loud, that I wanted money for a present, or would like it better than anything else, or something like that. O Alice, how I felt! I was frightened; but then I hoped Mr. Marshman did not hear her, for he did not say anything; but the next day George told me all about what she had been saying in there, and oh, it made me so unhappy!" said poor Ellen, looking very dismal. "What will Mr. Marshman think of me? he will think I expected a present, and I never dreamed of such a thing; it makes me ashamed to speak of it, even; and I can't bear he should think so; I can't bear it. What shall I do, dear Alice?"

"I don't know what you can do, dear Ellie, but be patient. Mr. Marshman will not think anything very hard of you, I dare say."

"But I think he does already; he hasn't kissed me since that as he did before; I know he does, and I don't know what to do. How could Margaret say that! oh, how could she! it was very unkind. What can I do?" said Ellen again, after a pause, and wiping away a few tears. "Couldn't Mrs. Chauncey tell Mr. Marshman not to give me anything, for that I never expected it, and would a great deal rather not?"

"Why, no, Ellie, I do not think that would be exactly the best or most dignified way."

"What, then, dear Alice? I'll do just as you say."

"I would just remain quiet."

"But Ellen says the things are all put on the plates in the morning; and if there should be money on mine – I don't know what I should do, I should feel so badly. I couldn't keep it, Alice! – I couldn't!"

"Very well – you need not! – but remain quiet in the meanwhile; and if it should be so, then say what you please, only take care that you say it in a right spirit and in a right manner. Nobody can hurt you much, my child, while you keep the even path of duty; poor Margaret is her own worst enemy."

"Then if there should be money in the morning, I may tell Mr. Marshman the truth about it?"

"Certainly – only do not be in haste; speak gently."

"Oh, I wish everybody would be kind and pleasant always!" said poor Ellen, but half comforted.

"What a sigh was there!" said John, coming in. "What is the matter with my little sister?"

"Some of the minor trials of life, John," said Alice, with a smile.

"What is the matter, Ellie?"

"Oh, something you can't help," said Ellen.

"And something I mustn't know. Well, to change the scene – suppose you go with me to visit the greenhouse and hothouses. Have you seen them yet?"

"No," said Ellen, as she eagerly sprang forward to take his hand; "Ellen promised to go with me, but we have been so busy."

"Will you come, Alice?"

"Not I," said Alice, "I wish I could, but I shall be wanted elsewhere."

"By whom, I wonder, so much as by me," said her brother. "However, after to-morrow I will have you all to myself."

As he and Ellen were crossing the hall they met Mrs. Marshman.

"Where are you going, John?" said she.

"Where I ought to have been before, ma'am – to pay my respects to Mr. Hutchinson."

"You've not seen him yet? that is very ungrateful of you. Hutchinson is one of your warmest friends and admirers. There are few people he mentions with so much respect, or that he is so glad to see, as Mr. John Humphreys."

"A distinction I owe, I fear, principally to my English blood," said John, shaking his head.

"It is not altogether that," said Mrs. Marshman, laughing; "though I do believe I am the only Yankee good Hutchinson has ever made up his mind entirely to like. But go and see him, do, he will be very much pleased."

"Who is Mr. Hutchinson?" said Ellen, as they went on.

"He is the gardener, or rather the head-gardener. He came out with his master some thirty or forty years ago, but his old English prejudice will go to the grave with him, I believe."

"But why don't he like the Americans?"

John laughed. "It would never do for me to attempt to answer that question, Ellie, fond of going to the bottom of things as you are. We should just get to hard fighting about tea-time, and should barely make peace by mid-day to-morrow at the most moderate calculation. You shall have an answer to your question, however."

Ellen could not conceive what he meant, but resolved to wait for his promised answer.

As they entered the large and beautifully-kept greenhouse, Hutchinson came from the farther end of it to meet them – an old man of most respectable appearance. He bowed very civilly, and then slipped his priming-knife into his left hand to leave the right at liberty for John, who shook it cordially.

"And why 'aven't you been to see me before, Mr. John? I have thought it rather 'ard of you; Miss h'Alice has come several times."

"The ladies have more leisure, Mr. Hutchinson. You look flourishing here."

"Why, yes, sir, pretty middling within doors; but I don't like the climate, Mr. John, I don't like the climate, sir. There's no country like h'England, I believe, for my business. 'Ere's a fine rose, sir – if you'll step a bit this way – quite a new kind – I got it over last h'autumn – the Palmerston it is. Those are fine buds, sir."

The old man was evidently much pleased to see his visitor, and presently plunged him deep into English politics, for which he seemed to have lost no interest by forty years' life in America. As Ellen could not understand what they were talking about, she quitted John's side, and went wandering about by herself. From the moment the sweet aromatic smell of the plants had greeted her she had been in a high state of delight; and now, lost to all the world beside, from the mystery of one beautiful and strange green thing to another, she went wandering and admiring, and now and then timidly advancing her nose to see if something glorious was something sweet too. She could hardly leave a superb cactus, in the petals of which there was such a singular blending of scarlet and crimson as almost to dazzle her sight; and if the pleasure of smell could intoxicate she would have reeled away from a luxuriant daphne odorata in full flower, over which she feasted for a long time. The variety of green leaves alone was a marvel to her; some rough and brown-streaked, some shining as if they were varnished, others of hair-like delicacy of structure – all lovely. At last she stood still with admiration and almost held her breath before a white camellia.

"What does that flower make you think of, Ellen?" said John, coming up; his friend the gardener had left him to seek a newspaper in which he wished to show him a paragraph.

"I don't know," said Ellen – "I couldn't think of anything but itself."

"It reminds me of what I ought to be – and of what I shall be if I ever see heaven; it seems to me the emblem of a sinless pure spirit, looking up in fearless spotlessness. Do you remember what was said to the old Church of Sardis? 'Thou hast a few names that have not defiled their garments; and they shall walk with me in white, for they are worthy.'"