“Just dropped in a minute to see if you are snug for the night,” he said.
“Of course, snug and so happy we’ve been hugging one another for hours,” said the mother. “Oh, Ben, the clouds have lifted at last!”
“Has Aunt Cindy come yet?” he asked.
“No, but she’ll be here in the morning to get breakfast. We don’t want anything to eat,” she answered.
“Then I’ll come out when I’m through my business to-night, and sleep in the house to keep you company.”
“Nonsense,” said the mother, “we couldn’t think of putting you to the trouble. We’ve spent many a night here alone.”
“But not in the past two years,” he said with a frown.
“We’re not afraid,” Marion said with a smile. “Besides, we’d keep you awake all night with our laughter and foolishness, rummaging through the house.”
“You’d better let me,” Ben protested.
“No,” said the mother, “we’ll be happier to-night alone, with only God’s eye to see how perfectly silly we can be. Come and take supper with us to-morrow night. Bring Elsie and her guitar—I don’t like the banjo—and we’ll have a little love feast with music in the moonlight.”