Like him! If it hadn't been for the Little Girl I could have knelt at his feet for very joy and gone all over the world with him.
I went to supper at the Gaynors'. Ruth had been making Johnny cake, and it was delicious. She had some funny sayings of M'liss' to repeat, and we laughed, of course.
"Now that you're here I'll go down to Baubein's and smoke an hour," Mr. Gaynor exclaimed, rising from the table.
"Don't go!" I blurted out, and I believe I was almost crying. "I have—something to tell you."
"Nothing bad, I hope!" He studied me curiously.
I don't know how I told the story. It was all in a jumble. He looked as if he didn't half believe me.
"Not that tall, white-bearded Frenchman, who looks as if he had just come from a King's Cabinet. Well, I swan! Norman Hayne, you're born for luck. Give us your hand."
He wrung it almost off.
"I'll sit down and hear the story over again. That Frenchman is said to be worth a mint of money, and you're on the right side. You just keep there, with care."
He made various comments as I went over the happenings. Then he seized his beaver cap.