'And you do not like Bill Peterkin? Well, what boys do you like?'

'Harold and d.i.c.k St. Claire,' was the prompt response, and Arthur continued:

'What would you have in place of the district school?'

'A governess,' was Jerry's answer. 'Nina St. Claire has one, and Ann Eliza Peterkin has one, and Maude Tracy has one.'

Here Jerry stopped suddenly, as if struck with a new idea.

'Why, Maude is your little girl, isn't she? You are her rich uncle, and she is to have all your money when you die. I wish I was your little girl.'

She spoke the last very sadly, and something in the expression of her face brought Gretchen to Arthur's mind, and his voice was choked as he said to her:

'I'd give half my fortune if you were my little girl.'

Then laying his hand on her bright hair, he questioned her adroitly of her life at the cottage, finding that it was a very happy one, and that she had never known want, although Mrs. Crawford was unable to work as she once had done, and was largely dependent upon the price for Jerry's board, which Frank paid regularly. Of this, however, Jerry did not speak. She only said:

'Harold works in the furnace, and in folks' gardens, and does lots of things for everybody, and once Bill Peterkin twitted him because he goes to Mrs. Baker's sometimes after stuff for the pig, and Harold cried, and I got up early the next morning and went after it myself and drew the cart home. After that grandma wouldn't let Harold go for any more, so I s'pose the pig will not weigh as much, I'm sorry, for I like sausage, don't you?'

Arthur hated it, but he did not tell her so, and she went on.

'Harold studies awful hard, and wants to go to college. He is trying to learn Latin and recites to d.i.c.k St. Claire; but grandma says it is up-hill business. Oh, if I's only rich I'd give it all to Harold, and he should get learning like d.i.c.k. Maybe I can work some time and earn some money. I wish I could.'

Arthur did not speak for a long time, but sat looking at the child whose face now wore an old and troubled look. In his mind he was revolving a plan which, with, his usual precipitancy, he resolved to carry into effect at once. But he said nothing of it to Jerry, whose attention was diverted by the entrance of Charles and the preparations for luncheon, which on the little girl's account, was served with more care than usual.

Jerry, who had a great liking for everything luxurious, had taken tea once or twice at Gra.s.sy Spring with Nina St. Claire, and had been greatly impressed with the appointments of the table, prizing them more even than the dainties for her to eat. But what she had seen there seemed as nothing compared to this round Swiss table, with its colored gla.s.s and rare china, no two pieces of which were alike.

'Oh, it is just like a dream!' she cried, as she watched Charles'

movement and saw that there were two places laid.

'Am I to sit down with you?' she said in an awe-struck voice, 'and in that lovely chair? I am glad I wore my best gown. It won't dirty the chair a bit.'

But she took her pocket handkerchief and covered over the satin cushion before she dared seat herself in the chair, which had once been brought out for Gretchen, and in which she now sat down, dropping her head and shutting her eyes a moment Then, as she heard no sound, she looked up wonderingly, and asked:

'Ain't you going to say "for Christ's Sake?" grandma does.'

Arthur's face was a study with its mixed expression of surprise, amus.e.m.e.nt, and self-reproach. He never prayed except it were in some ejaculatory sentences wrung from him in his sore need, and the thought of asking a blessing on his food had never occurred to him. But Jerry was persistent.

'You must say "for Christ's sake,"' she continued, and, with his weak brain all in a muddle, Arthur began what he meant to be a brief thanksgiving, but which stretched itself into a lengthy prayer, fall of the past and of Gretchen, whom he seemed to be addressing rather than his Maker.

For a while Jerry listened reverently; then she looked up and moved uneasily in the chair, and at last when the prayer had continued for at least five minutes, she burst out impulsively:

'Oh, dear, do say "amen." I am so hungry!'

That broke the spell, and with a start Arthur came to himself, and said:

'Think you, Jerry, praying is a new business for me, and I do believe I should have gone on forever if you had not stopped me. Now, what will you have?'

He helped her to whatever she liked best, but could eat scarcely anything himself. It was sufficient for him to watch Jerry sitting there in Gretchen's chair and using Gretchen's plate, which every day for so many years had been laid for her. Gretchen had not come. She would never come, he feared, but with Jerry he did not feel half as desolate as when alone, with only his morbid fancies for company. And he must have her there, at least a portion of the time. His mind was made up on that point, and when about four o'clock, Jerry said to him:

'I want to go now. Grandma said I was to be home by five,' she replied:

'Yes, I am going with you. I wish to see your grandmother. I am going to drive you in the phaeton. How would you like that?'

Her dancing eyes told him how she would like it, and Charles was sent to the stable with an order to have the little pony phaeton brought round as soon as possible as he was going for a drive.

CHAPTER XIX.

ARTHUR'S PLAN

'Why, the madam is going to drive, too, and I've come to harness; there'll be a row somewhere,' John said.

'Can't help it,' Charles replied, 'Mr. Arthur wants the phaeton, and will have it for all of Madam.'

'Yes, I s'p'o' so. Wall, I'll go and tell her,' was John's rejoinder, as he started for the house, where Mrs. Tracy was just drawing on her long driving gloves, and admiring her new hat and feather before the gla.s.s.

Dolly looked almost as young, and far prettier, than when the came to the park, eleven years before. A life of luxury suited her. She had learned to take things easily, and the old woman with the basket might now come every day to her kitchen door without her knowing it. She aped Mrs. Atherton of Brier Hill, in everything, and had the satisfaction of knowing that she was on all occasions quite as stylish-looking and well-dressed as that aristocratic lady whom she called her intimate friend. She had also grown very proud and very exclusive in her ideas, and when poor Mrs. Peterkin, who was growing, too, with _her_ million, ventured to call at the park, the call was returned with a card which Doily's coachman left at the door. Since the night of her party, and the election which followed when Frank was defeated, she had ignored the Peterkins, and laughed at what she called their vulgar imitation of people above them, and when she heard that Mary Jane hail hired a governess for her two children, Bill and Ann Eliza, she scoffed at the airs a.s.sumed by _come-up_ people, and wondered if Mrs. Peterkin had forgotten that she was one of Grace Atherton's hired girls. Dolly had certainly forgotten the Langley life, and was to all intents and purposes the great lady of the park, who held herself aloof from the common herd, and taught her children to do the same.

She had seen Jerry enter the house that morning with a feeling of disapprobation, which had not diminished as the day wore on and still the child staid, and what was worse, Maude was not sent for to join her.

'Not that I would have allowed it, if she had been,' she said to herself, for she did not wish her daughter intimate with one of whose antecedents nothing was known, but Arthur might at least have invited her. He had never noticed her children much, and this she deeply resented. Maude, who knew of Jerry's presence in the house had cried to go in and play with her, but Mrs. Tracy had refused, and promised as an equivalent a drive in the phaeton around the town. And it was for this drive Dolly was preparing herself, when John came with the message that she could not have the phaeton, as Mr. Arthur was going to take Jerry home in it.

Usually Arthur's slightest wish was a law in the household, for that was Frank's order; but on this occasion Dolly felt herself justified in rebelling.

'Not have the phaeton! That's smart, I must say,' she exclaimed. 'Can't that child walk home, I'd like to know? Tell Mr. Tracy Maude has had the promise of a drive all day, and I am ready, with my things on. Ask him to take the Victoria; he never drives.'

All this in substance was repeated to Arthur, who answered, quietly:

'Let Mrs. Tracy take the victoria. I prefer the phaeton myself.'

That settled it, and in few moments Jerry was seated at Arthur's side, and skimming along through the park, and out upon the highway which skirted the river for miles.

'This is not going home, and grandma will scold,' Jerry said.

'Never mind the grandma--I will make it right with her. I am going to show you the country,' Arthur replied, as he chirruped to the fleet pony who seemed to fly along the smooth road.

No one who saw the tall, elegant-looking man, who sat so erect, and handled the reins so skilfully, would ever have suspected him of insanity, and more than one stopped to gaze after him and the little girl whose face, with the golden hair blowing about it, looked out from the white sun bonnet with so joyous an expression. On the homeward route they met the victoria, with John upon the box, and Mrs. Tracy and Maude inside.

'There's Maude! Hallo, Maude--see me! I'm riding!' Jerry called out, cheerily, while Maude answered back:

'Hallo, Jerry!'

But Mrs. Tracy gave no sign of recognition, and only rebuked her daughter for her vulgarity in saying 'Hallo,' which was second cla.s.s and low.