"Not any more, thank you."
"Then I will tell you a bit of news. I expect Mr. Bovyer here this evening. It is a great favor for him to confer on us at this season—coming to brighten our Christmas."
"I fancied we had the prospect of a very joyous Christmas without help from abroad. To look at the pantry one might imagine we were going to entertain half of Cavendish to-morrow."
"I noticed a wistful look on your face when you came in that the purchase of a gun and watch could not wholly account for. Tell me, what is it?"
"Mr. Winthrop, can you really read my thoughts?" I exclaimed, in genuine alarm.
"Suppose I try. You would like to have a spread for your Mill Road pensioners; possibly at the Blakes or among some of them, and thereby utilize our overplus of provisions. Have I read aright?" My face flushed hotly, for this certainly had been in my mind for days; but I had not courage to make the request.
"You do not answer my question," he said, after awhile, seeing me stand silent.
"One cannot be punished for their thoughts, Mr. Winthrop."
"Then this was your thought?" he questioned.
"Surely you must be angry with me for wishing to do it. I did not mention it to Mrs. Flaxman, or any one."