Nevertheless, when all the rest of the house had retired, when the long candle was lighted, when the coffee-kettle was filled, when she sat in the elbow-chair, with her lover on a chair close beside her, and when the vigil of the night was fairly begun, she began to find it wearisome. The young man looked chilly, and said nothing.
“Won’t you put your feet on my stove?” said Tant Sannie.
“No thank you, aunt,” said the young man, and both lapsed into silence.
At last Tant Sannie, afraid of going to sleep, tapped a strong cup of coffee for herself and handed another to her lover. This visibly revived both.
“How long were you married, cousin?”
“Ten months, aunt.”
“How old was your baby?”
“Three days when it died.”
“It’s very hard when we must give our husbands and wives to the Lord,” said Tant Sannie.
“Very,” said the young man; “but it’s the Lord’s will.”