She seemed to have resumed quite naturally that quiet care of him and his, which she had in all the earlier years of their life. He noticed again her little hands,--they seemed a sort of wonder to him. Why had he never seen, when a boy, how pretty they were? And she had such dainty little ways of taking up and putting down things as she measured and clipped; it seemed so pleasant to have her handling his things; it was as if a good fairy were touching them, whose touch brought back peace. But then, he thought, by and by she will do all this for some one else. The thought made him angry. He really felt abused in anticipation. She was doing all this for him just in sisterly kindness, and likely as not thinking of somebody else whom she loved better all the time. It is astonishing how cool and dignified this consideration made our hero as he faced up to the window. He was, after all, in hopes she might blush, and look agitated at seeing him suddenly; but she did not. The foolish boy did not know the quick wits of a girl, and that all the while that he had supposed himself so sly, and been holding his breath to observe, Mara had been perfectly cognizant of his presence, and had been schooling herself to look as unconscious and natural as possible. So she did,--only saying,-- "Oh, Moses, is that you? Where have you been all day?" "Oh, I went over to see Parson Sewell, and get my pastoral lecture, you know." "And did you stay to dinner?" "No; I came home and went rambling round the rocks, and got into our old cave, and never knew how the time passed." "Why, then you've had no dinner, poor boy," said Mara, rising suddenly. "Come in quick, you must be fed, or you'll get dangerous and eat somebody." "No, no, don't get anything," said Moses, "it's almost supper-time, and I'm not hungry." And Moses threw himself into a chair, and began abstractedly snipping a piece of tape with Mara's very best scissors. "If you please, sir, don't demolish that; I was going to stay one of your collars with it," said Mara. "Oh, hang it, I'm always in mischief among girls' things," said Moses, putting down the scissors and picking up a bit of white wax, which with equal unconsciousness, he began kneading in his hands, while he was dreaming over the strange contents of the morning's letter. "I hope Mr. Sewell didn't say anything to make you look so very gloomy," said Mara. "Mr. Sewell?" said Moses, starting; "no, he didn't; in fact, I had a pleasant call there; and there was that confounded old sphinx of a Miss Roxy there. Why don't she die? She must be somewhere near a hundred years old by this time." "Never thought to ask her why she didn't die," said Mara; "but I presume she has the best of reasons for living." "Yes, that's so," said Moses; "every old toadstool, and burdock, and mullein lives and thrives and lasts; no danger of their dying." "You seem to be in a charitable frame of mind," said Mara.