"He's in his little box," said Jeanne. "At my grandfather's I made a small yard for him under one of the evergreens with toothpicks stuck all around in the clay. He liked that and the little clay house I built."
"How do you know he did?" asked Allen. "He couldn't purr or wag his tail."
"He stuck up his horns and kept his appetite."
The Rossiters' house was homelike. Even the furniture wore a friendly look. An affectionate cat rubbed against Jeanne's stockings and an old brown spaniel trustfully rested his nose upon her knee. Jeanne liked them both, but she loved the big old grandmother, because she had so many pleasant memories of Jeanne's own grandmother.
"The finest little lady I ever knew," said she. "An aristocrat to the very tip of her fingers. And your grandfather Duval was another. Ever so far back, their people were Huguenots. Although they lost their estates, and their descendants were never particularly prosperous in business, they were always refined, educated people. Your father met your mother when she was visiting in Philadelphia. It was a case of love at first sight and your mother's hostess, a very sentimental woman she was, my dear, rather helped the matter along. They were married inside of three weeks; and you were born a year later in your grandmother's house in Philadelphia. She died very shortly after that and some business opening took your father to Jackson, Michigan. I believe he and your mother settled there. Her own people had not forgiven her hasty marriage; but I assure you, my dear, your young cousins have no reason to be ashamed of you. Your blood is quite as good as theirs."
Her tone implied that it was better.
"That's enough past history, granny," said Allen. "I want to show her my stamp collection, my coins, my printing press, and my wireless station on the roof."
Jeanne thoroughly enjoyed the noon meal—she hadn't supposed that nice persons could be so jolly and informal at the table. The ride through the park, too, was delightful.
"It's lovely," she said, "to have this nice ride. The wind is blowing all the whirligigs out of my head."
"I suppose you had lots of rides in the Huntingtons' new car—Allen says they have one."