“Send the cake, too,” said Mr. Freeman, who had followed his wife. “Send the cake with my love.”
“Why, so I will,” said Mrs. Freeman. “Caroline made two excellent loaves of spice cake this very day and we can well spare one of them. But you children must trot off to bed. It’s been a very exciting day.”
Little Millicent was quite ready for bed, but neither Anne nor Rose was sleepy, and Rose followed her little friend into her room.
“See how clear the night is, Anne,” she said, looking out of the window toward the harbor. “The water looks like a mirror.”
Anne came and stood beside her. Her thoughts traveled across the smooth waters to the little house in Province Town. “I shouldn’t wonder if Aunt Martha were looking out at the water and thinking about me,” she said, drawing a little nearer to the tall girl beside her. “I wish she knew how good everybody is to me.”
Rose put her arm about the little girl. “She expects everybody to be good to you, Anne,” she responded; “but I have thought of something that you can do for Mrs. Stoddard that I am sure will please her, and will be something that she will always like to keep.”
“What is it, Rose?” and Anne’s voice was very eager.
“Let’s sit down here on the window-seat, and I’ll tell you. You have learned to write, haven’t you, Anne?”
“Not very well,” confessed the little girl.