"Some day," she said, "when the children are happy—with their families——"
"Yes, yes," he nodded; "a smaller house for you and me—just a little one." He smiled; few people ever had seen him smile. "Just a little house for two little old people," he said; "only one horse to take us about, one servant to feed us—eh, Sarah?"
She looked around her, smiling vaguely at the magnificence.
"I like to dust," she said, coloring up prettily, "and to make jelly.... I've wanted to a long while."
"You shall do it; I swear you shall. By God! I'll be glad when that chef is fired!"
"You know, Jacob," she said timidly, "with knitting and dusting and—and a little kitchen work—and you—the day passes very nicely."
"Some day you'll make some more of those crullers!" he predicted; "mark my words!"
"And the cinnamon shells," she added, slightly excited.
"Oh, Lord! Why can't that fool of a chef make 'em!" he burst out. "Well, I'll wait.... It gives us something more to wait for, doesn't it?"
He laughed. Only his wife had ever heard the dry cackle which was his manifestation of mirth.