"Better than the Latin?"
"Well—I like both;" archly.
He raised the window. A warm breath of delightful air rushed in, making the room with the fire seem chilly by contrast. He drew in long reviving breaths. Spring had truly come. To-morrow the swelling buds would burst.
"We must have a little Latin every day. And occasionally a walk in the sunshine. Twice a week I go down to Boston, but the other days will be ours."
"I like your room," she said frankly. "But what sights of books! Do you read them all?"
"Not very often. I do not believe I have read them all through. But I need them for reference, and some I like very much."
He wanted to add, "And some were a gift from your dear father," but he could not disturb her happy mood.
"Suppose we go down on the porch. It is too wet to walk anywhere."
"Oh, yes;" delightedly. "And to-morrow I will go down to the vessel again and see Captain Corwin. I do not want it to rain any more for weeks and weeks."
"No, for days and days. Weeks would dry us all up, and we would have no lovely spring flowers."