"Dr. King," David said, gently, "I'll shake hands now, and say good-by."
The laugh that followed changed the subject, although warm in William's consciousness the thought remained that she had let him know what the subject meant to her: he shared a secret with her! She had told him, indirectly perhaps, but still told him, of her troubles with young Sam. It was as if she had put out her hand and said, "Help me!" Inarticulately he felt what David had said, "I'll take care of you!" And his first care must be to make her forget what had distressed her. He said with the air of one imparting interesting information, that some time in the next fortnight he would probably go to Philadelphia on business. "Can I do any errands for you? Don't you ladies always want ribbons, or something."
"Does Mrs. King let you buy ribbons for her?" Helena asked.
"Ribbons! I am to buy yarn, and some particular brand of lye for soap."
"Lye! How do you make soap out of lye?"
"You save all the "—William hesitated for a sufficiently delicate word—"the—fat, you know, in the kitchen, and then you make soft soap."
"Why! I didn't know that was how soap was made."
"I'm glad you didn't," said William King. "I mean—it's disagreeable," he ended weakly. And then, to David's open joy, he said good-by and jogged off down the hill, leaving Mrs. Richie to her new responsibilities of discipline.
"Now, David, come here. I've got to scold you."
David promptly climbed up into the swing and settled himself in her lap. Then he snuggled his little nose down into her neck. "I'm a bear," he announced. "I'm eating you. Now, you scream and I'll roar."