With that she laughs delightedly, her sweet young face in a glow.
The visitors go up-stairs to see the prospect, which is lovely from the upper windows. "This is—this was papa's room," correcting herself. She does not think of him any more as in the grave, but in that other wonderful country with the one he loves so dearly.
"Denise," she says, one day, shocking the old woman, "why should I wear black clothes when papa is so happy? It is almost as if he had gone to Europe to meet mamma. Sometimes I long to have him back, then it seems as if I envied her, when she only had him three years, so long ago. Why should any one be miserable if I went to them both?"
"You talk wildly, child," answers Denise, quite at loss for an argument.
But now, when they come down, Denise has a cup of tea, some delicious bread and butter, cream cheese that she can make to perfection, and a dish of peaches. Violet is as surprised as they, and rejoices to play hostess. They are in the midst of this impromptu picnic when Grandon looks in the doorway, and laughs with the light heart of a boy.
"I was coming to talk with Denise," he says.
"I have made my bargain," the professor answers, in a tone of elation. "It is delightful. I shall be so charmed that I shall lose the zest of the traveller and become a hermit. I shall invite my friends to royal feasts."
Violet has poured a cup of tea and motions to Floyd, who comes to sit beside her. She is so alluring in her youth and freshness that he sometimes wishes there was no marriage tie between them, and they could begin over again.
"Whatever happened to you, Gertrude?" he asks. "I am amazed that tea-drinking has such a tempting power."
"The fraulein is to come often," says Freilgrath, lapsing into his native idiom. "It has done her good already; her eyes have brightened. She stays within doors too much."