A minute after, the door slowly opened its upper half, and Karen's wrinkled face and white cap and red shortgown were before them. Winthrop did not speak. Karen looked in bewilderment; then her bewilderment changed into joy.
"Mr. Winthrop! — Governor!" —
And her hand was stretched out, and clasped his in a long mute stringent clasp, which her eyes at least said was all she could do.
"How do you do, Karen?"
"I'm well — the Lord has kept me. But you —"
"I am well," said Winthrop. "Will you let us come in, Karen? — This lady has been up all night, and wants rest and refreshment."
Karen looked suspiciously at 'this lady,' as she unbolted the lower half of the door and let them in; and again when Winthrop carefully placed her in a chair and then went off into the inner room for one which he knew was more easy, and made her change the first for it.
"And what have ye come up for now, governor?" she said, when she had watched them both, with an unsatisfied look upon her face and a tone of deep satisfaction coming out in her words.
"Breakfast, Karen. What's to be had?"
"Breakfast? La!" — said the old woman, — "if you had told me you's coming — What do you expect I'll have in the house for my breakfast, Governor?"