"Ye needn't," said old Karen. "Anderese and me'd find something for you to eat, in all the wide country — do ye think we wouldn't? And how are you, dear," said she scanning Winnie's pale face; — "are ye ever yet any stronger?"
Winnie shook her head smiling and answered, "Not much."
"I see ye ain't. Well — ye're the Lord's child. He'll do what he will with his own. Where did ye come from, dear?"
"Up from Mr. Cowslip's mill," said Winnie. "We came in his sloop last night."
"The sloop!" said Karen. "Why then ye haven't had anything to eat! — and what was I thinking of! Sit down, dear — take your own chair, till I get the other room fit for ye; and you shall have breakfast jus' so soon I can make it. Where's the Governor gone to?"
He came in; and Karen's face grew bright at the sight of him. All the while she was getting the breakfast he stood talking with her; and all the while, her old face kept the broad gleam of delight that had come into it with his entering the kitchen. With what zeal that breakfast was cooked for him; with what pleasure it was served. And while they were eating it, Karen sat in the chimney corner and looked at them, and talked.
"And isn't the place sold then, Governor?"
"Not yet, Karen — in a few weeks it will be."
"And who's goin' to buy it?"
"I don't know."