"Now, child, I will step down, and see about breakfast. Take thy
time; for this is to be a holiday, and we mean to make it a happy
one if we can."
With that the old lady went away, and Christie soon followed,
looking very fresh and blithe as she ran down smiling behind her
great bouquet. David was in the porch, training up the
morning-glories that bloomed late and lovely in that sheltered spot.
He turned as she approached, held out his hand, and bent a little as
if he was moved to add a tenderer greeting. But he did not, only
held the hand she gave him for a moment, as he said with the
paternal expression unusually visible:
"I wished you many happy birthdays; and, if you go on getting
younger every year like this, you will surely have them."
It was the first compliment he had ever paid her, and she liked it,
though she shook her head as if disclaiming it, and answered
brightly:
"I used to think many years would be burdensome, and just before I
came here I felt as if I could not bear another one. But now I like
to live, and hope I shall a long, long time."
"I'm glad of that; and how do you mean to spend these long years of
yours?" asked David, brushing back the lock of hair that was always
falling into his eyes, as if he wanted to see more clearly the
hopeful face before him.
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