There was the gentle closing of a door, and a rustle of skirts, but Sarah did not hear. Then she sniffed the air.
"I smell baked things," she said. Before she finished, the twins were opening the pantry door.
"Look here once!" cried Louisa Ellen.
"Aunt 'Liza's crullers!" said Sarah. "And Aunt Mena's chocolate cake, five layers, and bread and pies, and it is chicken cooking on the stove, and I will make waffles yet, and—"
William caught her by the shoulders as she hurried from cupboard to stove.
"Here, youngster, not so fast!" This was William, indeed, with all William's dear, teasing, familiar ways! He looked at Miss Miflin, and his voice shook. "She is just like my mother. She—" But he could not go on. Instead he stooped and kissed Sarah.
It was not until after supper that there was time to talk; and then there was so much to be said, that they sat at first silently, except the twins, who, seated on the settle with Albert between them, were telling a fantastic tale of the day's adventures. Sarah could hardly speak for happiness. It seemed best to be quiet, and think, and try to realize that they were all safe and happy once more.
When William took Miss Miflin home, Sarah put Albert and the twins to bed, and told them all a story; then she went downstairs to wait until William came back. Even then she must be busy. She took up the sewing which she had laid down the day Albert was taken away. It was finished by the time that William opened the door.
He drew a chair up beside hers.
"Sarah," he said, "if a fairy came and told you that you might have anything in the world you wanted, what would you choose?"