And Nathan Hornby, who wanted her friendship, answered reluctantly:
“Yes-s-s—come along if you want t’. You won’t find it a very cheerful place t’ come to, but she’d be glad t’ know you’re here, I guess.”
Jack, sitting in his shawls and wraps on the floor, began to cry. He had been neglected long enough. His mother got suddenly to her feet. Both stooped to take the baby. Elizabeth resigned him to Nathan, instinctively realizing that Jack was a good advocate in her favour if Nathan still retained fragments of his grievances. She let the old man retain him on his lap while she busied herself about him unpinning his shawls.
It was home-like and companionable to have a woman and baby in the house, and Nathan Hornby had been lonesome a long time. He clucked to the baby and began to trot him up and down on his knee. With a relieved sigh Elizabeth dropped into a chair and watched them.
Jack, unaccustomed to whiskers, put his hand out to investigate. Nathan waggled his chin to shake its pendant brush, and Jack started nervously. Nathan looked across at Elizabeth and laughed. That little laugh did a world of good in aiding Elizabeth’s plans. It was not possible for Nathan to catch her eye in good-natured raillery and remain cool of manner; that laugh and the glance that went with it did much to wash away his hurt. In his secret soul Nathan had craved Elizabeth’s love and Elizabeth’s baby. She had been like a daughter in the house. He had missed her almost as much as his wife had done, but he had resented her long absence. He had come to the house determined not to forget his wrongs, and here he was, in less than fifteen minutes, smiling at her over the head of the baby in friendly amusement. He was puzzled now at the readiness with which he had given in, but Nathan found his love stronger than his grievances.
“Take off your things, Lizzie; th’ house’s yours if you—if you really want it to be.”
Elizabeth took off her wraps and prepared to begin work on the disorderly kitchen. Aunt Susan’s limp apron hung on the nail from which the bonnet had fallen, and she put it on, looking about her, undecided where it was best to commence.
“I’ve come to help—where shall I begin?” she said.
“If I could tell you what t’ do I could ’a’ done it myself,” Nathan said ruefully.
Elizabeth thought of the orderly wife who was gone and a sob arose in her throat.