She took her parcel with that involuntary meekness which the proudest learn before the matchless audacity of youthful ignorance when it fairly asserts itself, and passed out of the store to her waiting carriage.

Ellen saw her.
"That was Cynthia Lennox, wasn't it ?" Fanny said, with something like awe.

"Wasn't that an elegant cloak she had on?
I guess it was Russian sable." "I don't care if it was, it ain't a mite handsomer than my cape lined with squirrel," said Mrs.Zelotes.
Ellen looked intently at a game on the counter.

It was ten o'clock when Ellen went home.

She had been into all the principal stores which were decorated for Christmas.