away to market and Mr.
Inchbald out on another errand.

Winthrop came in with his hands full of brown papers. Winnie
watched him silently again while he put his stores in the
closet and brought out plates and knives and forks.

"Where do you sleep, Governor?"

"In a pleasanter place than I slept in last night," said her
brother.

"Yes, but where? I don't see any bed."

"You don't see it by day. It only shews itself at night."

"But where is it, Governor?"

"You're sitting on it, Winnie."

"This! --"

"What is the matter with it?"

"Why, --" said Winnie, looking dismayfully at the couch with
which Winthrop had filled the place of his bed, transferred to
her room, -- "it's too narrow!"

"I don't fall out of it," said her brother quietly.

"It isn't comfortable!"

"I am, when I am on it."

"But it's hard!"

"Not if I don't think it is hard."

"I don't see how that makes any difference," said Winnie
discontentedly. "It's hard to me."

"But it's not your bed, Winnie."

"I don't like it to be yours, Winthrop."

He was busy laying a slice of ham on the coals and putting a
skillet of water over the fire; and then coming to her side he
began, without speaking, and with a pleasant face, to untie
the strings of her bonnet and to take off that and her other
coverings, with a gentle sort of kindness that made itself
felt and not heard. Winnie bore it with difficulty; her
features moved and trembled.

"It's too much for you to have to take care of me," she said
in a voice changed from its former expression.

"Too much?" said Winthrop.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It's too much. Can you do it?"

"I think I can take care of you, Winnie. You forget who has
promised to take care of us both."

She threw her arms round his neck exclaiming, "I forget
everything! --"

"No, not quite," said he.

"I do! -- except that I love you. I wish I could be good,
Winthrop! -- even as good as I used to be."

"That wouldn't content me," said her brother; -- "I want you to
be better."

She clasped her arms in an earnest clasp about his neck, very
close, but said nothing.

"Now sit down, Winnie," said he presently, gently disengaging
her arms and putting her into a chair, -- "or something else
will not be good enough."

She watched him again, while he turned the ham and put eggs in
the skillet, and fetched out an odd little salt-cellar and
more spoons and cups for the eggs.

"But Winthrop!" she said starting, -- "wh