The Mothers Recompense, Volume II. | Page 3

composed," entreated Mrs. Hamilton,
alarmed by the extreme agitation she beheld. "Tell me, love, what are
the contents of this pocket-book? why do you entreat me so earnestly to
take it?"
Struggling violently with herself, Ellen tore open the little book, and
placed in her aunt's hand bank notes to the amount of those which had
once been so fatal a temptation.
"They are mine--all mine. I have gained them honestly; indeed, indeed
I have; I have worked for them. It was to gain time for this I refused to
go out with you last winter. I had hoped my long, long task would have
been done before, but it was not. Oh, I thought I should never, never
gain the whole amount, but I have now; and, oh, tell me I have in part
redeemed my sin; tell me I am more worthy of your love, your kindness;
tell me I am again indeed your own happy Ellen."
She would have said more, but no words came at her command, and
Mrs. Hamilton remained silent for a few minutes, in surprise and
admiration.

"My Ellen, my own much-loved Ellen!" she exclaimed at length, and
tears of unfeigned emotion mingled with the repeated kisses she
imprinted on her niece's cheek, "this moment has indeed repaid me for
all. Little did I imagine in what manner you were employed, the nature
of your tedious task. How could you contrive to keep it thus secret from
me? what time could you find to work thus laboriously, when not one
study or employment have I seen neglected?"
"I thought at first I never should succeed," replied Ellen, her strong
emotion greatly calmed; "for while Miss Harcourt remained with us, I
had only two hours before prayers in the morning, and sometimes I
have ventured to sit up an hour or two later at night; but not often, for I
feared you would discover me, and be displeased, for I could not, dared
not tell you in what I was employed. The winter before last I earned so
much from embroidery and finer kinds of work, that I thought I should
have obtained the whole a year ago; but I was disappointed, for here I
could only do plain work, at which I earned but little, for I could not do
it so quickly. I had hoped there would have been no occasion to refuse
your wish, that I should accompany you and Emmeline, but I found the
whole amount was still far from completed, and I was compelled to act
as I did."
"And is it possible, my Ellen, you have intrusted your secret to no one;
have demanded no sympathy, no encouragement in this long and
painful task?"
"I could not have accomplished nor did I commence it, without the kind
assistance and advice of Ellis. My dear aunt, I knew, reposed great
confidence in her, and I thought if she did not disapprove of my plan, I
should not be acting so very independently, and that with her assistance
my secret would not be so difficult to keep: she procured me
employment. My name nor my reasons for seeking it were never
known to those for whom I worked."
"And could she approve of a task such as this, my Ellen? Could she
counsel such painful self-denial and tedious labour?"
"She did all she could to dissuade, and at first positively refused to

assist me; but at last yielded to my entreaties, for she saw I never
should be happy till I could look on the past more as a debt
than--than--" She paused, then added--"My own spirit rebelled enough;
that was far more difficult to overcome than other dissuasions."
"And what strong impulse could have urged you to this course of
self-denial, my sweet girl? I know not yet whether I shall not scold you
for this almost needless infliction of pain, and for the deception it
involves towards me," said Mrs. Hamilton, with reproachful tenderness.
"Forgive me, oh, forgive me that!" exclaimed Ellen, clasping the hand
she held. "I have often and often felt I was deceiving you; failing in that
confidence I had promised you should never have again to demand; but
I dared not tell you, for I knew you would have prohibited the
continuance of my task."
"I should indeed, my Ellen; and tell me why you have done this. Was it
indeed because you imagined nothing else could atone for the past?"
"Because I felt--I knew, though I was restored to your favour, your
confidence, my conscience was not at peace, because I had read, '_If
the wicked restore the pledge, give again that which he had robbed,
walk in the statutes of life, without committing iniquity, he shall surely
live, he shall not die_;' and I