The other sat in a low chair, by a small study table, reading, only looking up now and then to answer some question put to her by her sister. This was "my father's boy."
The solemn little Jean was gone, in her place was this altogether charming young person, whose shapely head was crowned with coils and coils of red brown hair held in place by numerous quaintly carved silver hairpins. If it had not been for the clear gray eyes and the quaint fashion she still had of dropping her head on one side when solving some momentous problem, the little Jean might have been a dream.
Presently the door opened and Judge Thorn entered.
"Nice evening, girls!"
"Delightful!"
"Blackstone, Jean?"
The young lady looked at the book quizzically a moment and then laughed.
"United States history, father. Last week I reviewed Caesar. Now I am on this, and if I do my best I think I may reasonably hope to be in the Third Reader by next week."
The judge laughed.