“It’s the nicest one I ever had,” she said. A little laugh lighted her face—“and it will be the nicest one that ever was when I’ve cleaned up a little.” She dried her hands on the towel, looking down at them. “I know what you mean, Mr. Benslow—about ’little ones’—I guess every woman knows about that—and wants ’em,” she added, under her breath, to the towel. “But there’s some things we can’t have!” She took down the broom from the wall. “Now, if you’re going out, I’ll sweep up a little.”
Uncle William did not look back. “Andy’s coming,” he said, “I guess we ’ll go see how Benjy’s getting on—Don’t you mind anything I said, Celia. I’m kind o’ old and foolish, like enough.” The girl did not reply. But when he had gone, she came to the door and stood looking after him—and the dancing look in her eyes grew wistful and sweet.
VIII
WE used to meet on this rock when we was boys,” said Uncle William, sitting down, “—You remember them times, Andy?”
“I don’t remember nothin’,” said Andy. Uncle William looked at him. “I do’ ’no’ how you forget so easy.... I can see it all, just as plain as you be—settin’ there—you and me and Benjy, racing to get to this rock first—and planning suthin’—suthin’ ’t we hadn’t o’t to.... Seems kind o’ good to have Benjy back—just ’s if he ’d never been off the island?”
“He’s changed some,” said Andy. “Well—outside he’s peaked up a little—but inside, I can’t see a mite o’ difference. He gets mad just about ’s easy ’s ever,” said Uncle William contentedly.... “Now, this morning—” Uncle William moved his hand toward the horizon, “He’s gone over to his place, all kind o’ boilin’-like. He stopped and gazed at a figure that loomed on the horizon at the end of the long road. They watched the light, high-stepping figure come swiftly down the road.
“He’s got something on his mind,” said Uncle William, “I can see by the way his elbows act—kind o’ stiff so. I reckon that contractor does bother him—a good deal,” he added thoughtfully.
The man came on quickly, lessening his gait a little as he neared the rock, and taking off his hat to the breeze. “Feels good,” he said, nodding. He seated himself on the big rock. “Well—I’ve done it.” He turned his head slowly, taking in great whiffs of the fresh, bracing air. “I’ve fired him,” he said.