She looked at him suddenly, wondering and wistful. “Oh, have you?” she returned sympathetically. “But it is only like the devil, grandpa,” she added hopefully, “and you know there isn't any devil.”
“I can't discuss theology before breakfast,” he returned briefly.
“Dear grandpa, you shan't have a single pain!” She held her head back and looked at him lovingly.
“Very likely not, when I've begun playing the harp. Now where are those con—those ribbons?”
Jewel's eyes and lips grew suddenly serious and doubtful, and he observed the change.
“Yes, your hair ribbons, you know,” he added hastily and with an attempt at geniality.
“Not if you don't like to, grandpa.”
“I love to,” he protested. “I've been looking forward to it all the morning. I thought 'never mind if I can't go riding, I can tie Jewel's hair ribbons.'”
The child laughed a little, even though her companion did not. “Oh grandpa, you're such a joker,” she said; “just like father.”
But he saw that she doubted his mood, and the toe of one of the overshoes was boring into the carpet as she stood where she had withdrawn from him.