"Not a bit of it, James," she demurred. "Hannah and Betsey have done all the work, and you 've been with the children so much I 've not felt their care at all."
The man stirred uneasily.
"Well, I—I wanted to relieve you as much as possible," he exclaimed, wondering if she knew how many boats he had built for the boys, and how many jackknives he had broken in the process.
"Do you know?—I think I shall be actually lonely when they are gone," declared Mrs. Wentworth, without looking up.
The man threw a sharp glance at his wife.
"So shall I," he said.
"James, I've been wondering, could n't we—adopt one of them?" she suggested, trying to make it appear as if the thought had but just entered her head.
Again the man gave his wife a swift glance.
"Why—we—might—I suppose," he returned, hoping that his hesitation would indicate that the idea was quite new to him—instead of having been almost constantly in his thoughts for a week.
"We might take two—company for each other, you know!" She looked at him out of the corner of her eye.