Mr. James Dunlap carried his seventy-three years as lightly as many men of less rugged constitutions carry fifty. His was a fresh, healthy, kindly old face, the white hair resting like the snow on some Alpine peak served but to heighten the charm of those goodly features below.
“A year to young people means very little, I judge, daughter, but we old folk regard it differently. You have been away from me during the last year so much that old man as I am, the time has dragged,” the grandfather replied laying aside his morning paper and adjusting his glasses that he might see better the pretty face across the table.
“Now, that I look at you, my dear, apparently you have not aged to any alarming extent since you have become a matron,” jocosely added the old gentleman, his eyes beaming lovingly on his granddaughter.
“I may not show it, still I have my troubles.” Lucy’s attempt to wrinkle her smooth brow and draw down the corners of her sweet mouth while she tried to muster up a sigh was so ridiculous that her companion began to laugh.
“Don’t laugh at me, grandfather; it’s unkind,” cried Lucy, with the childish manner that still crept out when alone with him who had been both father and mother to her.
“Very well, deary, I shall not laugh. Tell me of those dire troubles that afflict you,” rejoined her still smiling grandfather.
“Well! now there is Walter, obliged to run away so early to that horrid old office that I never see him at the breakfast-table,” began the young creature with pretty pettishness.
“Sad! indeed sad!” said Mr. Dunlap in affected sorrow. “A gay young couple attend some social function or the theatre nightly and are up late; the unfortunate young husband is obliged to be at his office at ten o’clock in the morning to save an old man of seventy odd from routine labor; the young wife who is fond of a morning nap must breakfast alone, save the companionship of an old fogy of a grandfather; ’tis the saddest situation I ever heard of.”
The laughter in the old gentleman’s throat gurgled like good wine poured for welcome guest as Lucy puckered up her lips at him.