“Yes, some are bigger than others,” Polly replied innocently. “They hurt more. But Silver Moon doesn’t have very many. Oh,” she cried earnestly, thinking of the rose, “I do wish you could see those of Mrs. Jocelyn’s! Isn’t it funny,” she went on musingly, “how she always calls you David, just as if you were one of her very best friends! Only very best friends call each other by their first names, do they? I mean grown-up people. I guess she thinks a lot of you. Sometimes her eyes—you know what dark, shiny eyes she has—well, sometimes when she’s talking about you they get so bright and soft, they’re just beautiful! I think she is a lovely lady, don’t you?”
“I presume she is, from what I hear,” replied the Colonel. “I haven’t seen her in a long time. But how comes it that she speaks of me? I can’t see any occasion for it.”
“Oh, I don’t know! She talks of you very often. She thinks a lot of David. You know he goes up there with me a good deal.”
“David Collins!—goes up to see Mrs. Jocelyn?” Colonel Gresham was plainly surprised.
“Why, not Mrs. Jocelyn exactly, but Leonora. Didn’t he ever say anything about it? We go up ’most every week.”
“Ah, yes, Leonora! I had forgotten. She is the adopted child?”
Polly recounted the story of Leonora’s adoption, to which the Colonel listened attentively; but he made few comments, and when it ended he was silent.
Polly did not know what to think of Colonel Gresham to-day; in fact she began to feel as if she were not quite acquainted with him. She was strangely reminded of that other day, not a year ago, when she chose her happy reward, “to the half of his kingdom.” If he were like this at home, she wondered no more that David sometimes refrained from asking him questions. She was still thinking about it, when, suddenly, his customary genial manner returned, and they reached home in such high spirits that David would have been surprised to have learned that any part of the drive had been passed in silence.