"How shall I amuse him?" she said.
And Sam eager to serve her promised to find a pair of rabbits for the child. "I used to like rabbits when I was young," he explained.
At last, after his hostess had swallowed many yawns, Sam reluctantly said good night. He went bounding down the hill in the darkness, across the fields, through the woods. In the starlight, the great world lay dim and lovely before him—it belonged to him! He felt the joyous buffet of the night wind upon his face, the brush of boughs against his shoulder, the scent of young ferns, and the give of the spongy earth under his feet; he sprang in long leaps over the grass, the tears were wet upon his fresh cheeks, he sang aloud. But he did not know what he sang; in his young breast, Love, like some warm living thing, stirred, and lifted glorious wings and drove his voice throbbing and exultant to his lips! As he came down Main Street, the church clock struck eleven. But it might have struck twelve and he would not have been disturbed.
Standing in the doorway of the Wright house in thunderous silence the senior warden, lamp in hand awaited his son. As Sam entered, the silence broke into a flash of crackling and scathing contempt.
"It does not occur to you, sir, I suppose, that a lady may find your society tiresome? It is after eleven!"
Sam smiling to himself hung up his hat. He was reflecting that he must see about those rabbits at once.
"You will understand, sir, if you please, that while you do me the honor to live under my roof you will return to it at night at a respectable hour. I will not sit up for you in this way. You will be in at ten o'clock. Do you hear?"
"Yes, sir," said Sam; and added with sudden awakening of interest, "if you would let me have a key, father, I—"
"I will not let you have a key! I will have no boy entering my house at midnight with a key! Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," Sam murmured falling back into his own thoughts.