`` Yes , '' she answered . She had drooped her head , and turned away ; and so stood , with her hands crossed , musing . `` I do n't think you will , '' muttered Tackleton , looking at her ; `` for you seem to have forgotten all about it already . Caleb ! '' `` I may venture to say I 'm here , I suppose , '' thought Caleb . `` Sir ! '' `` Take care she do n't forget what I 've been saying to her . '' '' She never forgets , '' returned Caleb . `` It 's one of the few things she a n't clever in . '' `` Every man thinks his own geese swans , '' observed the toy merchant with a shrug . `` Poor devil ! '' Having delivered himself of which remark with infinite contempt , old Gruff and Tackleton withdrew . Bertha remained where he had left her , lost in meditation . The gaiety had vanished from her downcast face , and it was very sad . Three or four times she shook her head , as if bewailing some remembrance or some loss ; but her sorrowful reflections found no vent in words . It was not until Caleb had been occupied some time in yoking a team of horses to a waggon by the summary process of nailing the harness to the vital parts of their bodies , that she drew near to his working-stool , and , sitting down beside him , said : `` Father , I am lonely in the dark . I want my eyes , my patient , willing eyes . '' `` Here they are , '' said Caleb . `` Always ready . They are more yours than mine , Bertha , any hour in the four-and-twenty .
What shall your eyes do XXXXX you , dear ? ''
about at for from in of than to until with