I'll meet you there, and bring my wife that is to be. It'll do her
good. You're agreeable? Thank'ee. What's that!'

It was a loud cry from the Carrier's wife: a loud, sharp, sudden
cry, that made the room ring, like a glass vessel. She had risen
from her seat, and stood like one transfixed by terror and
surprise. The Stranger had advanced towards the fire to warm
himself, and stood within a short stride of her chair. But quite
still.

'Dot!' cried the Carrier. 'Mary! Darling! What's the matter?'

They were all about her in a moment. Caleb, who had been dozing on
the cake-box, in the first imperfect recovery of his suspended
presence of mind, seized Miss Slowboy by the hair of her head, but
immediately apologised.

'Mary!' exclaimed the Carrier, supporting her in his arms. 'Are
you ill! What is it? Tell me, dear!'

She only answered by beating her hands together, and falling into a
wild fit of laughter. Then, sinking from his grasp upon the
ground, she covered her face with her apron, and wept bitterly.
And then she laughed again, and then she cried again, and then she
said how cold it was, and suffered him to lead her to the fire,
where she sat down as before. The old man standing, as before,
quite still.

'I'm better, John,' she said. 'I'm quite well now--I -'