"Did he laugh? I thought he laughed," said the young woman.
A bright smile played on her lips.
"Maybe so, lass."
"Ralphie has never seen the children before, father. Didn't he look frightened—just a little frightened—at first, you know? I thought he crept behind my gown."
"Maybe, maybe."
The little one had dropped the hand of his young mother, and, still holding the bony finger of his grandfather, he toddled beside him into the house.
Very cool and sweet was the kitchen, with white-washed walls and hard earthen floor. A table and a settle stood by the window, and a dresser that was an armory of bright pewter dishes, trenchers, and piggins crossed the opposite wall.
"Nay, but sista here, laal man," said the old charcoal-burner, and he dived into a great pocket at his side.
"Have you brought it? Is it the kitten? Oh, dear, let the boy see it!"
A kitten came out of the old man's pocket, and was set down on the rug at the hearth. The timid creature sat dazed, then raised itself on its hind legs and mewed.