"We will go and draw it out next week," said Phebe, "if you like."
"Yes; and of course you had better change the name, had you not? And it will seem more businesslike if you draw the whole of it and then put the half of it back in my name. It will be yours all the same."
"I don't mind," said Phebe, "if that will please you."
"Please me! I'm not a child." Fortunately, just then he was called into the shop.
"Am I selfish?" questioned Phebe anxiously to herself. "Have I done wrong? Ought I to let him have the whole? But I am sure father would be cross if I did."
All that day there was sunshine without, but very little within. Phebe worked hard to make the house more homelike; some rugs were laid on the parlour floor, two arm-chairs established each side the table, ferns arranged in the grate, vases of flowers put on the chimney-piece, pictures hung up, curtains placed at the window—and yet it seemed dreary. But how can there be sunshine in a room when there's a shadow on the spirit?
After tea Ralph said: "I am going to Sunbury to a meeting this evening."
"Oh, I am glad; I shall enjoy that."
"But, dearest, I am sorry to disappoint you. I have promised to walk with old Mr. Cope, and it is too far for you. Besides, if you don't mind, I should like you to attend to the shop a little, just to check bills and take cash, for I am a young man short to-day. Will you?"
"Oh, yes," replied Phebe gaily, trying hard to let the feeling of pride that Ralph thought her capable of doing this conquer the feeling of disappointment. "I shall be delighted to do it for your sake." And after that sweet little speech Ralph kissed her.