Sensing the change in him, Virginia cuddled up to her father full of
happiness and contentment as if the purchase of the truck was settled.
"Isn't it sweet, Daddy dear," she murmured gently, "within an hour
after I talked to Hennie you offer to buy me a car? Of course, you
don't care, so long as I am satisfied, whether I choose a runabout or a
truck." She took his hand and held it in her own, pressing it.
Obadiah appeared greatly interested in something upon the skyline.
"A truck," Virginia continued thoughtfully, "especially a fine large
one such as we would need--" Obadiah flinched--"would be in the way.
Our garage wouldn't hold it and Serena would object to it being left
in the yard." She arrived at a sudden determination. "Choose, Daddy,
whether you will buy me a truck or loan me one from the mill."
Obadiah's response was not delayed. "You had better use a mill truck,"
he agreed with a sigh which might have been of relief.
"Thank you, Daddy. I can hardly wait to tell Hennie," she exclaimed,
highly delighted at the outcome of her efforts.
Obadiah leaned towards his chauffeur. "Ike," he ordered, "you get the
new truck down at the mill, the first thing in the morning. Run it out
to Mrs. Henderson's house. Make all the row around her place you wish.
Tell her," Obadiah continued, "that it is there by my instructions, to
take those negro orphans riding." He paused. "Ike," he resumed more
forcibly, "don't you forget the noise."
"Yas'r," promised Ike with happy smiles of anticipation.
"That will be a dandy joke on Hennie," giggled Virginia. "Go very
early, Ike."
They were following a boulevard which now brought them to the Soldiers'
Home. Its fine buildings and large acreage were matters of great pride
to South Ridgefield. As they approached the central group of edifices,
they heard music.
"Let's stop for the band concert," suggested Virginia.
Obadiah, much relieved physically and mentally from recent disquietude,
was unusually complaisant. "Drive in, Ike," he directed.
They turned into a broad, paved road which followed the sides of a square
about which were located the principal buildings of the institution.
It bounded a tree shaded park with a band-stand in the center. Walks
radiating to the sides and corners of the square were lined with benches
occupied by veterans in campaign hats and blue uniforms, smoking,
chatting, and enjoying the music.
The inner edge of the roadway was lined with automobiles full of
visitors. Ike stopped upon the opposite side, in front of the quarters
of the Commanding Officer.
Hardly had they paused when a tall, fine looking man of a distinctly
military bearing, despite his white hair, hurried out to meet them.
"Mr. Dale," he greeted the manufacturer in a big booming voice, "I
am glad to welcome you to the Home."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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