Even more than Caroline, Mrs.Hamilton felt she should miss the gentle girl, who scarcely from her infancy had given her one moment's pain; but in the happiness of her child she too was blessed, and thankfully she raised her voice to Him whose blessing, in the rearing of her children, she had so constantly and fervently implored, and the mother's fond and yearning heart was comforted.
Though Ellen had smiled, and seemed to every eye but that of her watchful aunt the same as usual the whole of that day, yet Mrs.Hamilton could not resist the impulse that bade her seek her when all had retired to their separate apartments.

Ellen had been gone some time, but she was sitting in a posture of deep thought, in which she had sunk on first entering her room.

She did not observe her aunt, and Mrs.Hamilton traced many tears slowly, almost one by one, fall upon her tightly-clasped hands, ere she found voice to speak.
"Ellen, my sweet child!" Ellen sprung up, she threw herself into those extended arms, and hid her tearful eyes on her aunt's bosom.
"I have but you now, my own Ellen, to cheer my old age and enliven our deserted hearth.

You must not leave me yet, dearest.

I cannot part with you." "Oh, no, no; I will never, never leave you.