"Don't you see, Seth?"
"I see somebody that had like to have spoiled your whole baking I don't know who it is yet."
"Don't you now, cousin Seth?" said Fleda, shaking away her tears and getting up.
"I ha'n't quite lost my recollection. Cousin, you must give me a kiss. How do you do! You ha'n't forgot how to colour, I see, for all you've been so long among the pale city folks."
"I hav'n't forgotten anything, cousin Seth," said Fleda, blushing indeed, but laughing and shaking his hand with as hearty good-will.
"I don't believe you have anything that is good," said he.
"Where have you been all this while?"
"Oh, part of the time in New York, and part of the time in
Paris, and some other places."
"Well, you ha'n't seen anything better than Queechy, or
Queechy bread and butter, have you?"
"No, indeed!"
"Come, you shall give me another kiss for that," said he, suiting the action to the word; "and now sit down and eat as much bread and butter as you can. It's just as good as it used to be. Come, mother, I guess breakfast is ready by the looks of that coffee-pot."