It was quite evident that her feelings were on the verge of being wounded, for her lips were a little unsteady, and her eyes were reproachful.
The reply came in a soft, reminiscent voice.
"'Twas yesterday you were in pinafores, chasing butterflies by day and fire-flies by night, out yonder on the lawn. Are you really twenty?"
"Yes, sir; and I demand it as my right to share your burdens. They will be lighter so, for us both."
The Major sighed, and lifted his hand to his forehead.
"You are right, and I promise that you shall know. But not now—not now."
"In a day or two, then?"
"Yes, in a day or two. Run along now and gather some flowers."
He bent to receive her kiss, and stood watching her as she moved with a free, swift step out onto the portico, into the yard, and over to a side fence where a mass of nasturtiums were rioting in a wealth of variegated colors.
"That is where her life should be," he murmured to himself; "spent among blooming flowers, listening to the birds, caressed by sun and wind. Now she demands of me the story of Devil Marston's hate, and I have to tell her. Why do innocent children have to grow up and taste of bitterness? Why must she know of man's inhumanity, injustice and greed? O my little Julia, I would keep you from every thorn if I could! This old breast would gladly take all that were meant for you, and not mind the sting! But that is not God's way, and His way is best. Poor child! I wish it could be otherwise."