“You teased me more than you played with me,” she returned. “You were twenty then, but you put on all the airs of a grown man.”
“I was, too. I felt old enough to be your father. That’s why I used to lecture you so much, don’t you remember?”
“Indeed I do! You could make me mad by half a dozen words.”
“I knew it, and I loved to do it! I expect I was an awful torment.”
“Yes, you were. But tell me all about yourself. Why are you in New York and not staying here? Oh, Kane, what does it all mean? I’ve been in such miserable uncertainty all the morning. Not that I thought for a minute you’d done anything—anything wrong, but it’s all so horrible. Did you quarrel with Uncle Rowly yesterday?”
“Yes, Avice, just as the little chap said. But don’t talk about awful things now. It’s all over, the harrowing part, I mean. Now, I just want to look at you, and get acquainted all over again. Let’s put off anything unpleasant until another day.”
“I remember that trait in you of old. Always put off everything disagreeable, and hurry on anything nice,” and Avice smiled at the recollection.
“And not a bad philosophy, my dear. Now tell me of yourself. You are well—and happy? I mean until this tragedy came.”
“Yes, Kane, I’ve had a happy home here with Uncle. I liked it better before Eleanor Blade came, but Uncle wanted a housekeeper, and she applied for the position and he took her. That was about a year or more ago, and Kane, what do you think? They were engaged to be married!”
“Yes, so I learned at the inquest. Don’t you like her?”