“Why, nothing. Only the day seemed so long.”
“You went to the father’s?”
“Oh, yes,” rather indifferently.
“Why didn’t you run over then? You might have taken supper with me.”
“Because—there were Elise and Sophie.”
“But there was supper enough to go round. We had some fine broiled fish. Mère Lunde is an excellent cook.”
“Oh, when can I come to stay?” Her tone was full of entreaty, and her eyes soft with emotion.
“But—you won’t have any little girls to play with.”
“I don’t want any one but you.”
He had paused from his work, and now she sprang to him and encircled him as far as she could with her small arms.