Girls -- Juvenile fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- Juvenile fiction
So--although Francesca, the little Italian singer, was skipping rope on
the pavement below the window, and a robin was calling lustily to its
mate in a nearby horse-chestnut tree, and a vender was peddling his
wares down the street in a voice that sounded like a slow-pealing bell,
poor Keineth felt as if she could never be really happy again! That
night Daddy and Keineth went uptown for dinner. In one of the hotels
they met Mr. Lee. Keineth's heart was pounding with dread beneath her
neat serge dress and she was almost afraid to look at the man. But when
he took her hand in his and spoke in a kindly voice, she ventured a
timid glance and saw a big man, taller and heavier than her father,
with a jolly smile and eyes that laughed from under their shaggy
eyebrows. Then she felt that she liked him--and the more because he had
such an affectionate way of laying his hand on her father's shoulder.
While they talked together Mr. Lee watched her very closely. Once he
said to her father:
"My wife will love the little girl--she is so like her mother!" There
had been a long silence then, and Keineth had seen the look in her
father's eyes that meant his thoughts were back in the past. Later Mr.
Lee had added: "Why, John--you won't know the child after a summer with
us--those cheeks will all be roses and her little body plump. And how
the kiddies will love her!"
Keineth had been shown the kodak pictures and had studied them closely.
The very big girl was Barbara, who was seventeen. The boy was Billy,
aged fourteen. Peggy was Keineth's age--twelve, and the little one,
Alice, was eight. They all wore middy blouses in the picture and Peggy
and Alice were barefooted. Keineth thought, as she looked at their
laughing faces, that they were very unlike any children she had ever
seen anywhere.
They took Mr. Lee to their home. Keineth played on the piano for
them--not her own fairy things, but a simple little piece she had
learned with much precision from Madame Henri. Then she and Tante went
upstairs. Daddy had whispered to her as she kissed him good-night:
"You must decide yourself, dear!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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