Noll slipped off the chair arm, saying, "Don't say that again, Uncle Richard. Papa trusted you,—so do I. And, if you please, will you go out to supper? Hagar called a long time ago. Come, Uncle Richard, don't look so gloomy! Papa smiled even when—when he was saying good-by to me."
The instant these words escaped Noll's lips he half regretted them. He had never before allowed his uncle to know that he thought him sad and gloomy, and he was not quite sure that the careless word would strike agreeably upon his ears. But Trafford only said,—
"Yes, Noll, I know. We will go out to supper," and rose from the chair and followed after his nephew.
The boy did his best to make the meal a cheery one, thinking to himself that this, as much as anything, was a part of the work which papa wished him to do; and, observing his efforts, Trafford endeavored to keep pace with his nephew's cheerful talk. Noll did not go back to the library after tea was over, but followed Hagar out to her kitchen as she went thither with her tray of dishes, and sat down in the cozy corner by the fireplace. Somehow, the boy thought, the old housekeeper's humble kitchen seemed to gather more brightness and cheerfulness into its rough and smoke-tarnished precincts than the great library, with all its comforts and elegancies, ever held. The reason for this he did not seek; he only knew that it was so, and liked the wooden seat in the chimney-corner accordingly. Hagar came out with her last tray-load from the dining-room, and set it down upon the table with,—
"Bress ye, honey, Hagar's glad 'nough to see ye sittin' dar. 'Pears like I never heard de sea shoutin' like it is dis yer ebenin'. Seems as ef all de folks dat de cruel ole monster hab swallered wur jes' openin' the'r moufs and cryin' 'loud! Hagar t'anks de Lord dat yer ain't in de bottom ob it, honey."
The old housekeeper took two or three side glances at the boy's sober face as she poured the hot water over her dishes, and said at last, "Now don' ye s'pose Hagar knows what ye're t'inkin' ob so hard, chile? Ki! she c'u'd tell ye quicker'n nuffin. You's t'inkin' ob dem mis'able Culm folks, you is."
"You are partly right," said Noll. "It seems to me as if I couldn't think of anything else. I try to sometimes, but the sight of their wretched ways keeps coming to me, and it's no use to try and put it away. Oh, dear, I wish something could be done for them!"
"Dat's yer bressed father all ober!" said Hagar. "'Spects ef he was 'live an' livin' on dis yer wild'ness, we'd see somethin' did fur 'em. But Mas'r Dick—well, his heart is all frizzed up, jes' as I telled ye afore. But de Lord'll open it sometime, honey,—Hagar's got faith 'nough to b'lieve dat!"
"Oh! I hope so," said Noll; "but what are the people going to do till then?"
"Can't tell ye nuffin 'bout dat," said Hagar, making a vigorous clatter among her dishes; "'spects the day's comin', tho', when de Lord gets ready fur't. 'Tain't till he says, honey."