What a treat those parcels were!  How curious were all the party at the unpacking, looking at the many odd things that were sure to come out, on the happy doubtful certainty that each one would be remembered by the good sister.

So there were the little directed parcels—­a neat knitted grey and black handkerchief for Mother to wear in the shop; a whole roll of fashion-books for Ellen, and a nice little pocket-book besides; and a bundle of ‘Illustrated News’ to amuse the boys; a precious little square book of ‘Hymns for the Sick’ for Alfred; and a famous pair of riding-gloves, like bears’ paws, for Harold.  And what rolls besides!  Worn flimsy dresses, once pretty, but now only fit for the old-clothes man, yet whose trimmings Ellen pulled out and studied; bonnets that looked as if they had been sat upon; rolls of soft ragged cambric handkerchiefs, on which Mrs. King seized as the most valuable part of the cargo, so useful would they be to poor Alfred; some few real good things, in especial, a beautiful thick silk dress which had been stained, but which dyeing would render very useful; and a particularly nice grey cloth mantle, which Matilda had mentioned in her letter as likely to be useful to Ellen—­it was not at all the worse for wear, except as to the lining of the hood, and she should just fancy Ellen in it.

Ellen could just fancy herself in it.  She had a black silk one, which had come in the same way, and looked very well, but it was just turning off, and it was not warm enough for winter without a shawl under it.  That grey looked as if it was made for her, it suited her shoulders and her shape so well!  She put it on and twisted about in it, and then she saw her good mother not saying one word, and knew she was thinking of the sum that was wanting to the rent.

‘Well, Mother,’ said Ellen, ’I’ll go in and take the things to Betsey on the next market-day, and if we can get thirty shillings on them without the mantle—­’

‘Yes, if you can, my dear,’ said her mother; ’I’m sure I should be very glad for you to have it, but you see—­’

And Mrs. King sighed.

Ellen passed by Paul on the landing, and saw him with his face flushed with pain and fever, trying to smile at her.  She remembered how her unkind words had brought trouble on him, and how her mother had begun by telling her that they must give up their own wishes if they were to nurse him.

Ellen went to Elbury on the market-day, and by the help of Betsey Hardman, she got great credit for her bargaining.  She brought home thirty shillings, and ten shillings’ worth of soap for the shop, where that article was running low; but she did not bring home the cloak, though Betsey had told her a silk cloak over a shawl looked so mean! and she feared all the servants at the Grange would think the same!