Come down to the settin' room when you're ready," and she gave his hands a little squeeze.
"Aunt Po----, I beg pardon, Mrs.Bixbee," said John, moved by a sudden impulse, "do you think you could find it in your heart to complete my happiness by giving me a kiss?
It's Christmas, you know," he added smilingly.
Aunt Polly colored to the roots of her hair.

"Wa'al," she said, with a little laugh, "seein' 't I'm old enough to be your mother, I guess 't won't hurt me none," and as she went down the stairs she softly rubbed her lips with the side of her forefinger.
John understood now why David had looked out of the bank window so often that morning.

All his belongings were in Aunt Polly's best bedroom, having been moved over from the Eagle while he and David had been in the office.

A delightful room it was, in immeasurable contrast to his squalid surroundings at that hostelry.

The spacious bed, with its snowy counterpane and silk patchwork "comf'table" folded on the foot, the bright fire in the open stove, the big bureau and glass, the soft carpet, the table for writing and reading standing in the bay, his books on the broad mantel, and his dressing things laid out ready to his hand, not to mention an ample supply of _dry_ towels on the rack.
The poor fellow's life during the weeks which he had lived in Homeville had been utterly in contrast with any previous experience.