This was Mr. Leonard’s favorite room. Here he spent most of his evenings, and here the family were apt to follow him, leaving the more pretentious rooms below for company purposes.
He had been a widower now for about a year, and his present family consisted of his ward, Jennie Arlington, of a son and daughter, both as yet quite young, and of a matronly maiden aunt, who filled the responsible position of housekeeper.
She was too old-fashioned to entertain company, and on Jennie were thrown the labor and the pleasure of entertainment. Fortunately none could have been better fitted to do the honors of the elegant mansion. Despite her youthfulness, she had that womanly tact which makes natural entertainers sometimes of mere children in years.
“And what ails Uncle Harry to-night?” she asked, confronting him in his restless stride.
By this title she had always been used to call him, though there was really no relationship between them. He had become her guardian, and taken her as a member of his family, at the request of an old friend by whom she had been raised, and who had left her a good share of his fortune though even he was but an adopted father. There was some mystery, known only to Mr. Leonard, about her origin.
“Nothing, child,” he said, somewhat querulously. “Some business bother, that is all. Sit down to your book, and I will walk my nerves into quietness in five minutes.”
“But you always leave business at the store,” she said, persistently. “I never knew business yet to affect your appetite or unsettle your nerves.”
“I suspect I am getting old and uneasy,” he answered, with a forced laugh. “You must look for more whims from me in the future.”
“I think I will take a walk, too, uncle,” she replied, taking his arm. “But, you really go too fast; I cannot follow such a stride as that.”
“If you get in my carriage you must travel at my speed,” he said, laughing. “You are a little pest, Jennie. I wish you would let me alone.”