“Grandpa, do you think it's error for me not to like eggs?” she asked.
“Mother never said it was. She was willing I should eat something else.”
“Of course, eat whatever you like,” responded Mr. Evringham quickly.
Mrs. Forbes seemed to swell and grow pink. “You always have eggs, sir,
and if there's two breakfasts to be got, will you kindly tell me what
the other shall be?”
Mr. Evringham glanced up in some surprise at the unfamiliar tone.
“Oh, the oatmeal is a plenty,” said Jewel, looking at the housekeeper,
eager to mollify her.
“Try an egg. Perhaps you'll like them by this time,” suggested Mr.
Evringham.
“Do you like everything to eat, grandpa?”
Mr. Evringham, being most arbitrary and peculiar in his tastes, could
only gain time by clearing his throat again, and taking a drink of
coffee.
“Mrs. Forbes will bring you a glass of milk, I dare say,” he returned
at last, without looking up; and the housekeeper turned with ponderous
obedience and left the room.
Nimbly Jewel slid down from her chair, and running around the table to
her grandfather's place, put both her arms around his neck and whispered
to him eagerly and swiftly, “If you have such a pro--something respect
for Mrs. Forbes, and it makes her sorry because I won't eat eggs,
perhaps I ought to. If it offends thy brother to have you eat meat, you
mustn't, the Bible says, so I suppose, if it makes Mrs. Forbes turn red
and perhaps get the stomach ache to have me not eat eggs, I ought to;
but grandpa, if you decide I must, please let me wait till to-morrow
morning, so I can say the Scientific Statement of Being all day--”
Here Mrs. Forbes entered with a glass of milk on a little tray. She
stood transfixed at the sight that met her.
“That child hasn't the fear of man before her eyes!” she ejaculated
mentally, then she marched forward and deposited the milk beside Jewel's
empty plate, while the child ran back and took her seat.
Mr. Evringham, gazing at his visitor in mute astonishment, was much
disconcerted to receive a confiding gesture of raised shoulders and
eyebrows, which, combined with a little smile, plainly signified that
they had been caught. He took up his newspaper mechanically.
He had never had a daughter, and caresses had seldom passed between
him and his children. His duties as a family man had always been
perfunctory. He was tingling now from the surprise of Jewel's action,
the feeling of the little gingham clad arms about his neck, the touch
of the rose-leaf skin as she swept his cheek and ear in her emphatic
half-whisper.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account