"Then, Jack, I am going to say something I thought ought not to be spoken of for fear you might do it simply to please me. Why not stay?"
"But I can't find any work 'round here, Aunt Nancy."
"You have contrived to get plenty from the first night I saw you. If this home seems pleasant there is no reason why you should leave it, and when the white winged messengers come to carry me to the Father, the little I leave behind shall be yours. It isn't much, Jack dear, but would keep you from want, and a delicate boy like you is not able to fight the hard world. If you were strong and well the case would be different."
Jack drew a long breath as if the pleasurable surprise was almost overpowering, and then asked slowly,—
"Do you really want me to live here?"
"Do I want you? If you say you will stay the pain which is now in my heart will go away in an instant, and I would be the happiest old woman in the State."
"Then there'll be two feelin' mighty good, Aunt Nancy, for I'm only too glad of the chance."
The little woman kissed him tenderly, which told better than words that the invitation really came from the heart.
Not until a late hour that night did the tiny woman and the cripple leave the bench under the old oak.
Aunt Nancy had many plans for the future, chief among which was giving Jack an education, and he speculated upon the possibility of tilling so much of the farm during the coming season as would give him a small income.