The Little Colonel | Page 7

saw he had struck the right chord as soon as he mentioned the
flowers. The sullen look vanished as if by magic. Her face changed as
suddenly as an April day.
"Oh, yes!" she cried, with a beaming smile. "I loves 'm bettah than
anything!"
He tied his horse, and led the way to the conservatory. He opened the
door for her to pass through, and then watched her closely to see what
impression it would make on her. He had expected a delighted
exclamation of surprise, for he had good reason to be proud of his rare
plants. They were arranged with a true artist's eye for colour and effect.
She did not say a word for a moment, but drew a long breath, while the
delicate pink in her cheeks deepened and her eyes lighted up. Then she
began going slowly from flower to flower, laying her face against the
cool, velvety purple of the pansies, touching the roses with her lips, and
tilting the white lily-cups to look into their golden depths.
As she passed from one to another as lightly as a butterfly might have
done, she began chanting in a happy undertone.
Ever since she had learned to talk she had a quaint little way of singing

to herself. All the names that pleased her fancy she strung together in a
crooning melody of her own.
There was no special tune. It sounded happy, although nearly always in
a minor key.
"Oh, the jonquils an' the lilies!" she sang. "All white an' gold an' yellow.
Oh, they're all a-smilin' at me, an' a-sayin' howdy! howdy!"
She was so absorbed in her intense enjoyment that she forgot all about
the old Colonel. She was wholly unconscious that he was watching or
listening.
"She really does love them," he thought, complacently. "To see her face
one would think she had found a fortune."
It was another bond between them.
After awhile he took a small basket from the wall, and began to fill it
with his choicest blooms. "You shall have these to take home," he said.
"Now come into the house and get your strawberries."
She followed him reluctantly, turning back several times for one more
long sniff of the delicious fragrance.
She was not at all like the Colonel's ideal of what a little girl should be,
as she sat in one of the high, stiff chairs, enjoying her strawberries. Her
dusty little toes wriggled around in the curls on Fritz's back, as she used
him for a footstool. Her dress was draggled and dirty, and she kept
leaning over to give the dog berries and cream from the spoon she was
eating with herself.
He forgot all this, however, when she began to talk to him.
"My great-aunt Sally Tylah is to our house this mawnin'," she
announced, confidentially. "That's why we came off. Do you know my
Aunt Sally Tylah?"
"Well, slightly!" chuckled the Colonel. "She was my wife's half-sister.

So you don't like her, eh? Well, I don't like her either."
He threw back his head and laughed heartily. The more the child talked
the more entertaining he found her. He did not remember when he had
ever been so amused before as he was by this tiny counterpart of
himself.
When the last berry had vanished, she slipped down from the tall chair.
"Do you 'pose it's very late?" she asked, in an anxious voice. "Mom
Beck will be comin' for me soon."
"Yes, it is nearly noon," he answered. "It didn't do much good to run
away from your Aunt Tyler; she'll see you after all."
"Well, she can't 'queeze me an' kiss me, 'cause I've been naughty, an' I'll
be put to bed like I was the othah day, just as soon as I get home. I
'most wish I was there now," she sighed. "It's so fa' an' the sun's so hot.
I lost my sun-bonnet when I was comin' heah, too."
Something in the tired, dirty face prompted the old Colonel to say,
"Well, my horse hasn't been put away yet. I'll take you home on
Maggie Boy."
The next moment he repented making such an offer, thinking what the
neighbours might say if they should meet him on the road with
Elizabeth's child in his arm.
But it was too late. He could not unclasp the trusting little hand that
was slipped in his. He could not cloud the happiness of the eager little
face by retracting his promise.
He swung himself into the saddle, with her in front. Then he put his one
arm around her with a firm clasp, as he reached forward to take the
bridle.
"You couldn't take Fritz on behin', could you?" she asked, anxiously.
"He's mighty ti'ed too."

"No," said the Colonel, with