"I think we might give Reuben at least a visit, if nothing else,—and there are a good many such houses down about those points, and far on along the shore. I was thinking most of them—though there are some nearer by. But my Mignonette must not tire herself,—I did not mean to bring anything but pleasure upon her hands."
"You can't! in this way," said Faith in delighted eagerness. "Who keeps house in Reuben's home? he has no mother."
"No—I suppose I may say that he keeps house,—for his father is away a great deal, and Reuben always seems to be doing what there is to do. As to things—you will want some for well people, and some for sick,—at some houses the mere necessary bread and meat, and at others any of those little extras which people who spend all their money for bread and meat can never get. But little child," Mr. Linden said smiling, "if I let you prepare, you must let me send home."
"What?" said she. "I thought you said we would both take them together?"
He laughed—taking her hand and holding it in both his.
"And so we will!—I meant, send home here, to prepare."
"Oh!—Well," said Faith, "but we have a great deal now, you know; and I can send Mr. Skip to get more. But one thing I know—we will take Reuben a roast turkey!"
I wonder if she could tell, in the firelight, with what eyes he watched her and listened to her! Probably not, for his back was towards the fire, and the changing light and shade on his face was a little concealed. But the light had the mastery.
"Faith," he said, "I shall send you home some sugar-plums—upon express condition that you are not to eat them up; being quite sweet enough already."
His face was so hid that probably Faith thought her own was hid too, and did not know how clearly its moved timid changes were seen. She leaned forward, and touching one hand lightly to his shoulder, said,