“How they set one craving for more,” said the old lady, who had the great hunger of a past fever on her, which was maddening—and she eyed the two apples in Eva’s lap ravenously.
Eva reached forth one of the apples, but James put it back, shaking his head playfully at the mother’s greed.
“Not healthy to eat too much at once. Wait a little, and then——”
That instant the door leading into the kitchen was flung open, and the delicious scent of hot beef-steak and steaming coffee filled the little parlor. Eva and Mrs. Laurence started up, and cried out in their joyful amazement, for there, lighted by two lamps, was a table, well spread with all their scarcely-used dishes, on which was a repast such as they had not tasted for months.
“Take your place, mother — the armed-chair for you. Pour out the coffee, Eva, while I roll Ruthy up to the table. Want help? Well, yes, you may lend a hand this once, for a cracker or so, soaked in bitterness, don’t make giants of boys all at once. There, Miss Ruthy, what do you think of that?”
Miss Ruthy, the moment her chair was drawn close to the table, folded her hands on the white cloth, and bowed her face upon it, thanked God as he is seldom thanked at any meal. Then the bowed heads were lifted, and this little household, so downcast an hour before, came out into the sunshine of this marvellous plenty; and those sad faces grew bright with smiles of thankfulness, while two eager faces peeped in through the morning glories at the window, enjoying it all, as if the grocer’s wife and her servant had been good fairies.
CHAPTER VI.
IN THE MORNING.
A sudden burst of sunshine had come in on the Laurence family, brightening the darkness around them. It glinted through the white curtains, where they floated over the window, as the morning dawned upon them. At daylight every one was astir and full of cheerful activity; the cloud, which had so long hung blackly over that family, had turned its silver lining, and the very edge seemed radiant.
The boy was up earliest of all, building a fire in the stove, and making ready for his mother to come down. He was singing to himself all the time, while a bright tin tea kettle kept up a murmuring accompaniment, and softened the air with its vapory steam.
Then the good housewife came down, pale, gaunt, but unconsciously almost smiling, and Eva followed, supporting Ruth with both arms, until the invalid dropped into a chair, and drew a breath of exquisite satisfaction, as she looked over the little table her mother’s deft hands had spread.