"It will make a difference I shall not like, Cale. There 'll be no more cosy evening-ends with porridge, after the lord of the manor comes."
"What's that you say?" Jamie was roused at last. I thought I could do it.
"Nothing in particular; only Cale and I were saying how different it would be when Mr. Ewart comes."
"You bet it will!" said Jamie emphatically. "You won't know this house,"--he took up his porridge,--"and Ewart won't know it either since you 've had your hand on it, Marcia." This I perceived to be a sop.
"Thet's so," said Cale, with emphasis. "I never see what a difference all thet calico an' fixin's has made; an' my room looks as warm with them red blankets and foot-rugs! It beats me how a woman can take an old house like this, an' make it look as if it had been lived in always. I thank _you_," he said, looking hard at me, "fer all the comfort you 've worked inter my room."
"You have n't thanked me the way I want to be thanked, Cale," I said, smiling up at him.
"I done the best I could," he replied with such a crestfallen air that we laughed.
"The only way you can thank me is to call me 'Marcia'. I 've wanted to ask you to, ever since our first drive together up from the steamboat landing."
He looked at me intently for a minute; then he spoke slowly and we all knew with deep feeling: "You 're name 's all right; but you've made such a lot of happiness in this house since you come, I 'd like ter have my own name fer you--"
"I 'd like ter call you 'Happy', if you don't mind."
I know I turned white, but I controlled myself. Was it possible he knew! It could not be. I dared not assume that he knew and refuse him. I made an effort to answer in my usual voice:
"Of course I don't, Cale--only, I hardly deserve it; all I 've done is just in 'the day's work', you know."
"Not all," he said, putting down his emptied bowl and turning to the door; "no wages thet I ever heard of will buy good-will an' the happiness you 've put inter all this work."
"Oh, Cale, I don't deserve this--" But he was gone without the usual good night to any of us.
"You do too," said Jamie shortly, and, reaching for his pipe, went off into the dining-room.
Mrs. Macleod laid her hand on my shoulder. "They mean it, Marcia; good night, my dear."