"Yes indeed; I am sure I can--after being among these people to-night. How much I have that they want! Look at the Great Bear over there!--isn't that better than New York?"
"The Great Bear hangs over New York too," Hugh said with a smile.
"Ah but it isn't the same thing. Heaven hasn't the same eyes for the city and the country."
As Hugh and Fleda went quick up to the kitchen door they overtook a dark figure, at whom looking narrowly as she passed, Fleda recognised Seth Plumfield. He was joyfully let into the kitchen, and there proved to be the bearer of a huge dish carefully covered with a napkin.
"Mother guessed you hadn't any Thanksgiving ready," he said,--"and she wanted to send this down to you; so I thought I would come and fetch it myself."
"O thank her! and thank you, cousin Seth;--how good you are?"
"Mother ha'n't lost her old trick at 'em," said he, "so I hope that's good."
"O I know it is," said Fleda. "I remember aunt Miriam's Thanksgiving chicken-pies. Now, cousin Seth, you must come in and see aunt Lucy."
"No," said he quietly,--"I've got my farm-boots on--I guess I won't see anybody but you."
But Fleda would not suffer that, and finding she could not move him she brought her aunt out into the kitchen. Mrs. Rossitur's manner of speaking and thanking him quite charmed Seth, and he went away with a kindly feeling towards those gentle bright eyes which he never forgot.