She smiled at Mittie May, who glowed with pride and pleasure. Calvin thought he had seen only one smile brighter than Miss Fidely's.
"It did seem real providential," she went on, "if only she could catch you, and I'm more than pleased she did. Here's my bags all ready," she pointed to a neat pile that lay on a table beside her; "and if you've got the goods to fill 'em, I guess we sha'n't need to do much bargainin'. I've got the money ready too."
"I guess that's all right!" said Calvin, rising. "I'll bring my stock right in, what's left of it, and you can take your pick. I've sold the heft of it, but yet there's a plenty still to fill them bags twice't over."
"Mittie May, it's time for you to go," said Miss Fidely. "Your Ma'll be lookin' for you to help get supper. Mebbe you can run over to-night to hang the bags, or first thing in the morning."
"I'll hang the bags!" said Calvin Parks.
"Oh!" said Miss Fidely. "You're real kind, but that's too much to ask, isn't it?"
"I guess not!" said Calvin. "I guess I'd rather trim a Christmas Tree than eat my supper any day in the week. You run along, Mittie May; I'll tend to this."
The rose and violet were deepening over the snow-fields, and stars were piercing the golden veil of sunset. Calvin filled the brown horse's nose-bag and hung it over his head, and covered him carefully with the buffalo robe.
"You rest easy a spell, hossy!" he said. "This is trade, you know. Christmas Eve, you can't expect to get to bed real early."
Hossy shook himself, whinnied "All right!" and addressed himself to his supper. Calvin pulled out one drawer after another, studying their contents with frowning anxiety. "She's goin' to have the best there is!" he said. "There's a look in that lady's eyes that puts me in mind of Miss Hands; and take that with her bein' afflicted and all—I guess we'll give her a good set-off, hossy. I guess—that—is—what we'll do!"