Adela hesitated a moment, and then placed the jug to her lips, Hilary watching her attentively the while.
“Steady,” he cried excitedly; “steady! Don’t drink it all.”
“Oh, Hilary,” said the girl laughing, “what a greedy boy you are! You’re just as bad as you used to be over the cider.”
“Can’t help it,” he said. “There, drink a little more. You don’t know how bad I am.”
“Poor fellow!” she said feelingly; and having drunk a little more she again held up the jug, which he drew rapidly to the window, but not without spilling a good deal.
“Hah!” he exclaimed as he got hold of the vessel. “Good health.”
He drank long and with avidity; and then setting down the jug once more, partook of some bread, looking down the while at his little benefactor, and ending by saying:
“Why, Addy, what a nice girl you have grown!”
“Have I!” she said laughingly. “And what a great big fellow you have grown; and oh, Hilary,” she said, with her face becoming serious, “thank you—thank you for being so very, very kind to us the other day.”
“Yes,” he said, “and this is the way you show it. Now I’m better, and I want to know how you came here.”