“I have been waiting and dreaming here this half hour,” answered her guest, taking Eddie in his arms; “I did not expect to find you from home so early.”
“Oh, it was Eddie’s fault, he ran away and was lost all night.”
“Lost! how? Where did you find him?”
There was no reason why the young widow should not have answered this question. But there was a feeling of sadness connected with the scenes she had witnessed that night, which checked her, and she merely replied that a neighbor had found the boy and taken him home.
“And oh,” interposed Eddie, “she was such a tall, black lady, with eyes all fire, and such hot lips.”
“You did not like her then, my little man?” inquired the visitor.
“Yes, I did. She loved me, oh, so much. You don’t know how hard she kissed me, and hugged me till it stopped my breath.
“I don’t wonder,” replied the stranger. “Who could help loving you dearly?” and his fine face flushed crimson, as he pressed a kiss on the rosy mouth of the child.
“Come,” said Mrs. Oakley, blushing also, but smiling amid the pleasant confusion. “We shall all have an appetite for breakfast.”
And with the timid bashfulness of a girl, she sat down to do the honors of her new home to one whose gaze she had learned to tremble under.