“Oh, yes; he was a great darling!”
“He wasn’t very handsome.”
“No, but—there is always something so dear about a grandfather!”
“Always?”
“Yes; always!” and suddenly Di left her seat, and, taking a few steps forward, she dropped on her knees before him.
“Grandfather,” she said, clasping her small gloved hands on his knee, “Grandfather!”
She was meaning to be very eloquent indeed,—that is, if it were to become necessary. She did not dream that that one word, so persuasively spoken, was more eloquent than a whole oration.
“Well, Miss Di?”
“Grandfather, I’ve a great favour to ask of you, and I should like to have you say ‘yes’ beforehand!”
He looked down upon her with a heart rendered surprisingly soft by that first word,—and a mind much tickled by the audacity of the rest of it. 257