"I am sorry you feel that way," he said briefly, and vanished in the darkness after another load.
Soon all was safely housed, and he said, about to depart, "There is one more load; I will bring that to-morrow."
From the kitchen she called, "Stay, your tea will be ready in a moment."
"Do not put yourself to that truble," he answered, at the same time longing to stay. "Mother will have supper ready for me." He was so diffident that he needed much encouragement, and moreover he was morbidly sensitive.
But as she turned she caught his wistful glance, and thought to herself, "Poor fellow! he's cold and hungry." With feminine shrewdness she said, "Now, Mr. Lacey, I shall feel slighted if you don't take a cup of my tea, for see, I have made it myself. It's the one thing about housekeeping that I understand. Your mother brought me a nice cup at noon, and I enjoyed it very much. I am going to pay that debt now to you."
"Well—if you really wish it"—said Arden hesitatingly, with another of his bright looks, and color even deeper than the ruddy firelight warranted.
"My conscience!" thought Edith, "how suddenly his face changes. He is 'quar,' as Hannibal says." But she settled matters by saying, "I shall feel hurt if you don't. You must let there be at least some show of kindness on my part, as well as on yours and your friends'."
There came in again a delicate touch of that human fellowship which he had never found in the world, and had seemingly repelled, but which his soul was thirsting for with an intensity never so realized before, and this faintest semblance of human companionship and sympathy seemed inexpressibly sweet to his sore and lonely heart.
He took the cup from her as if it had been a sacrament, and was about to drink it standing, but she placed a chair at the table and said:
"No, sir, you must sit down there in comfort by the fire."