"Then, at least, I can carry your basket,—allow me!" And so, in his quiet, masterful fashion he took the basket from her arm, and walked on beside her, through the orchard.
"What a glorious night it is!" exclaimed Anthea suddenly, drawing a deep breath of the fragrant air,—"Oh! it is good to be alive! In spite of all the cares, and worries, life is very sweet!"
After this, they walked on some distance in silence, she gazing wistfully upon the beauties of the familiar world about her while he watched the curl above her ear until she, becoming aware of it all at once, promptly sent it back into retirement, with a quick, deft little pat of her fingers.
"I hope," said Bellew at last, "I do sincerely hope that you 'tucked up' my nephew safe in bed,—you see—"
"Your nephew, indeed!"
"Our nephew, then; I ask because he tells me that he can't possibly sleep unless you go to 'tuck him up,'—and I can quite believe it."
"Do you know, Mr. Bellew, I'm growing quite jealous of you, he can't move a step without you, and he is for ever talking, and lauding your numberless virtues!"
"But then—I'm only an uncle, after all, and if he talks of me to you, he talks of you to me, all day long."
"Oh, does he!"
"And, among other things, he told me that I ought to see you when your hair is down, and all about you."