The Little Colonel | Page 8

are off?"
Just as he was about to lift her down, she put one arm around his neck, and kissed him softly on the cheek. "Good-bye, gran'fatha'," she said, in her most winning way. "I've had a mighty nice time." Then she added, in a lower tone, "'Kuse me fo' throwin' mud on yo' coat."
He held her close a moment, thinking nothing had ever before been half so sweet as the way she called him grandfather.
From that moment his heart went out to her as it had to little Tom and Elizabeth. It made no difference if her mother had forfeited his love. It made no difference if Jack Sherman was her father, and that the two men heartily hated each other.
It was his own little grandchild he held in his arms.
She had sealed the relationship with a trusting kiss.
"Child," he said, huskily, "you will come and see me again, won't you, no matter if they do tell you not to? You shall have all the flowers and berries you want, and you can ride Maggie Boy as often as you please."
She looked up into his face. It was very familiar to her. She had looked at his portrait often, unconsciously recognizing a kindred spirit that she longed to know.
Her ideas of grandfathers, gained from stories and observation, led her to class them with fairy godmothers. She had always wished for one.
The day they moved to Lloydsborough, Locust had been pointed out to her as her grandfather's home. From that time on she slipped away with Fritz on every possible occasion to peer through the gate, hoping for a glimpse of him.
"Yes, I'll come suah!" she promised. "I likes you just lots, gran'fathah!" He watched her scramble through the hole in the fence. Then he turned his horse's head slowly homeward.
A scrap of white lying on the grass attracted his attention as he neared the gate.
"It's the lost sunbonnet," he said, with a smile. He carried it into the house, and hung it on the hat-rack in the wide front hall.
"Ole marse is crosser'n two sticks," growled Walker to the cook at dinner. "There ain't no livin' with him. What do you s'pose is the mattah?"

CHAPTER IV.
Mom Beck was busy putting lunch on the table when the Little Colonel looked in at the kitchen door.
So she did not see a little tramp, carrying her shoes in one hand, and a basket in the other, who paused there a moment. But when she took up the pan of beaten biscuit she was puzzled to find that several were missing.
"It beats my time," she said, aloud. "The parrot couldn't have reached them, an' Lloyd an' the dog have been in the pa'lah all mawnin'. Somethin' has jus' natch'ly done sperrited 'em away."
Fritz was gravely licking his lips, and the Little Colonel had her mouth full, when they suddenly made their appearance on the front porch.
Aunt Sally Tyler gave a little shriek, and stopped rocking.
"Why, Lloyd Sherman!" gasped her mother, in dismay. "Where have you been? I thought you were with Becky all the time. I was sure I heard you singing out there a little while ago."
"I've been to see my gran'fathah," said the child, speaking very fast. "I made mud pies on his front 'teps, an' we both of us got mad, an' I throwed mud on him, an' he gave me some 'trawberries an' all these flowers, an' brought me home on Maggie Boy."
She stopped out of breath. Mrs. Tyler and her niece exchanged astonished glances.
"But, baby, how could you disgrace mother so by going up there looking like a dirty little beggar?"
"He didn't care," replied Lloyd, calmly. "He made me promise to come again, no mattah if you all did tell me not to."
Just then Becky announced that lunch was ready, and carried the child away to make her presentable.
To Lloyd's great surprise she was not put to bed, but was allowed to go to the table as soon as she was dressed. It was not long until she had told every detail of the morning's experience.
While she was taking her afternoon nap, the two ladies sat out on the porch, gravely discussing all she had told them.
"It doesn't seem right for me to allow her to go there," said Mrs. Sherman, "after the way papa has treated us. I can never forgive him for all the terrible things he has said about Jack, and I know Jack can never be friends with him on account of what he has said about me. He has been so harsh and unjust that I don't want my little Lloyd to have anything to do with him. I wouldn't for worlds have him think that I encouraged her going there."
"Well, yes, I know," answered her aunt, slowly. "But there are some things to