"But they want me. And, yes, I want to see them all, and the garden, and the woods, and what new things have happened to Pittsburg. For there is something new coming in all the time."
Her face was so eager and full of happy interest.
"Well—I don't know what we shall do without you"; and the inflection of his voice was disconsolate. "I am afraid we shall fall back to the old routine. I am a busy man, you know, and have to shoulder a great many cares not really my own. Perhaps, too, I haven't the divine art of making a house bright, a woman's province."
"Oh, Mr. Bartram, I will tell you;" in a clear, earnest tone. "Why do you not marry, and bring some one here to do it? There are so many charming girls, sometimes I feel quite unimportant and ignorant beside them."
She uttered it in the same manner she might have asked why he did not bring home some flowers to grace the study table. Her lovely eyes were raised to his in the utmost innocence, and not a tint of color wavered on her cheek. His flushed with sudden surprise.
"Perhaps the charming young girl would consider it a dull house for life, and then elderly people have whims and fancies—well, younger men do. I have myself. And it would be asking a good deal."
"I think uncle hasn't many whims, and he does keep them in the background. You almost have to watch for them. Why, think of grandad!" and she laughed with a soft musical sound. "What he liked yesterday he may not like at all to-day, so Norry does the new thing, and says nothing about the other. And he often disputes with father as to whether there was any real need for the war, and that we would be better off under King George. But uncle is so large-minded, and then he has so many refined and delightful tastes. But you would get lonesome if you were not very well, and no one came to cheer you up, or bring you new thoughts and bright bits of things, that were going on in the world outside."
She paused suddenly, and flushed like a culprit, looking more beguiling than ever, with her downcast eyes.
"I suppose I oughtn't have said it, but it seems true to me, only I'm not blaming you. You have a great many things to attend to, and you must do them in a man's way, devote your whole mind to them, and you can't be frivolous, or other people's business would suffer. If I hadn't any one I would come and stay, but—I love them, and sometimes, in spite of the pleasure, my heart is almost torn in two with the longing. I said I would come back in the spring, and I must go. Then it will not be quite so bad, for Madame Clerval will be in and out, and he is so much better. And you'll let him take an interest in business, when he feels like it—oh, I seem to be giving you advice, and I sincerely beg your pardon. After all, I am not much more than a little girl, and I am talking as if I was old and wise;" and a sudden shame flamed her cheeks with scarlet.
"I think you have been wise, and sweet, and patient, without growing old. You have done a great deal for your guardian this winter—I really was afraid we should not have him with us for very long, and he did seem to wish for you so. Perhaps we were selfish, he and I."