"It's a wonder Bose does not growl; he generally does if strangers touch him. Dear me, how stupid!"
The last remark was neither addressed to the stranger nor to the dog but to herself She had forgotten that the little stand was not empty, and there was no room on it for the things she held.
"Oh, I'll manage it," said her guest, gathering up paper, candle, apples, and spectacles (it was not without a little pang that she saw them in his hand, for they had been her husband's, and were placed each night, like the arm-chair, beside her) and depositing them on the settle.
"Give me the table-cloth, ma'am, I can spread it as well as any woman; I've learned that along with scores of other things, in my wanderings. Now let me relieve you of those dishes; they are far too heavy for those hands"—the widow blushed; "and now please, sit down with me, or I cannot eat a morsel."
"I had supper long ago, but really I think I can take something more," said Mrs. Townsend, drawing her chair nearer to the table.
"Of course you can, my dear lady; in this cold fall weather people ought to eat twice as much as they do in warm. Let me give you a piece of this ham, your own curing, I dare say."
"Yes: my poor husband was very fond of it. He used to say that no one understood curing ham and drying beef better than I."
"He was a most sensible man, I am sure. I drink your health, ma'am, in this cider."
He took a long draught, and set down his glass.
"It is like nectar."