Mr. Murray placed a luscious cluster in the emaciated hands, and put the basket down on the floor near the cot. As he drew a chair from the wall and seated himself, Edna crossed the room stealthily, and, laying her hand on Huldah's shoulder, led her out to the front steps.
"Huldah, has Mr. Murray ever been here before?"
"Oh! yes—often and often; but he generally comes later than this. He brings all the wine poor pa drinks, and very often peaches and grapes. Oh! he is so good to us. I love to hear him come up the steps; and many a time, when pa is asleep, I sit here at night, listening for the gallop of Mr. Murray's horse. Somehow I feel so safe, as if nothing could go wrong, when he is in the house."
"Why did you never tell me this before? Why have you not spoken of him?"
"Because he charged me not to speak to any one about it—said he did not choose to have it known that he ever came here. There! pa is calling me. Won't you come in and speak to him?"
"Not this evening. Good-bye. I will come again soon."
Edna stooped, kissed the child hastily, and walked away.
She had only reached the gate, where Tamerlane was fastened, when Mr.
Murray came out of the house.
"Edna!"
Reluctantly she stopped and waited for him.