"'T ain't as if our things wan't all out," cried Cyrus; his voice was
actually exultant.
"Or as if we hadn't wanted to build a new one for years," chirruped his
wife.
"Now you can have that 'ere closet under the front stairs, Huldah!"
"And you can have the room for your tools where it'll be warm in the
winter!"
"An' there'll be the bow-winder out of the settin' room, Huldah!"
"Yes, and a real bathroom, with water coming right out of the wall, same
as the Wileys have!"
"An' a tub, Huldah--one o' them pretty white chiny ones!"
"Oh, Cyrus, ain't it almost too good to be true!" sighed Huldah: then
her face changed. "Why, Cyrus, it's gone," she cried with sudden
sharpness.
"What's gone?"
"Your dinner--I was cooking such a beautiful turkey and all the fixings
for you."
A dull red came into the man's face.
"For--me?" stammered Cyrus.
"Y-yes," faltered Huldah; then her chin came up defiantly.
The man laughed; and there was a boyish ring to his voice.
"Well, Huldah, I didn't have any turkey, but I did have a tidy little
piece o' black silk for yer gown, an' I saved it, too. Mebbe we could
eat that!--eh?"
It was not until just as they were falling asleep that night in Deacon
Clark's spare bedroom that Mr.
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