“No place like home,” echoed his brother, as he sought for and took his child’s hand. “You will stop with us to-night, Luke?”
“Hear him, Louy?” said the old man. “Now, is it likely?”
“But your place will be cheerless and bare to-night.”
“Cheerless? Bare! You don’t know what you are talking about. If you only knew the longing I have to be once more in my own bed, listening to wind and sea. No, thank you.”
“But, uncle, for to-night, do stay.”
“Now, that’s unkind, Louy, after all the time you’ve made me be away. Well, I will, as a reward to you for rousing yourself up a bit. One condition though; will you come down to-morrow and talk to me while I fish?”
She remained silent.
“Then I don’t stop to-night.”
“I will come to-morrow, uncle.”
“Then, I’ll stop.”