Not as good wives are, when listening for their
husbands. No, no, no. It was another sort of restlessness from
that.
Wheels heard. A horse's feet. The barking of a dog. The gradual
approach of all the sounds. The scratching paw of Boxer at the
door!
'Whose step is that!' cried Bertha, starting up.
'Whose step?' returned the Carrier, standing in the portal, with
his brown face ruddy as a winter berry from the keen night air.
'Why, mine.'
'The other step,' said Bertha. 'The man's tread behind you!'
'She is not to be deceived,' observed the Carrier, laughing. 'Come
along, sir. You'll be welcome, never fear!'
He spoke in a loud tone; and as he spoke, the deaf old gentleman
entered.
'He's not so much a stranger, that you haven't seen him once,
Caleb,' said the Carrier. 'You'll give him house-room till we go?'
'Oh surely, John, and take it as an honour.'
'He's the best company on earth, to talk secrets in,' said John.
'I have reasonable good lungs, but he tries 'em, I can tell you.
Sit down, sir.
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