“Well, well,” said Aunt Martha, “’Tis a fine piece of money, and your father is kind to send it. I will use it well.”
“And Uncle Enos has fetched you a fine shawl and a keg of molasses,” said Anne. “You do not think there was great harm in my hiding in the sloop, Aunt Martha?” The little girl’s face was so troubled that Aunt Martha gave her another kiss, and said:
“It has turned out well, but thee must never do so again. Suppose a great storm had come up and swept the sloop from her moorings that night?”
“Rose Freeman looks just like a rose,” said Anne, feeling quite sure that Aunt Martha was not displeased; “and she walks so softly that you can hardly hear her, and she speaks softly, too. I am going to walk and speak just as she does.”
“That is right,” agreed Mrs. Stoddard. “I am sure that she is a well-spoken girl.”
When Captain Enos came up the hill toward home Anne had already put her blue cape and hat carefully away, and was sitting near the fire with the white kitten curled up in her lap.
“The Freemans do not eat in their kitchen,” said Anne, as they sat down to supper; “they eat in a square room with a shining floor, and where there is a high mantel-shelf with china images.”
“’Tis a fine house,” agreed Captain Enos, “well built of brick. ’twas a great thing for Anne to see it.”
“’Tis not so pleasant a house as this,” said Anne. “I could not see the harbor from any window, and the shore is not smooth and sandy like the shores of our harbor.”
Captain Enos smiled and nodded.