The Old Gentleman lifted Jean up on the Post.
"I should like to see where papa lived when he was a boy, but I wouldn't care to have Mr. Congreve there," said Bea, who had that morning began being more womanly than usual by relieving mama of coffee-urn duties.
"He's gone!" exclaimed Kittie, from the window. "Now for the secret! What did he say, Jean?"
"I'm not to tell," answered Jean, looking quite excited and rather pale, as she hurried in; then amazed them all again by hiding her face in Mrs. Dering's dress and bursting into tears.
"What ever has he done?" cried Kat, bouncing excitedly out of her chair. "Was he cross?—or perhaps he pinched you or something."
"No, he didn't," said Jean, trembling but smiling through her tears. "He was very good and kind, and didn't look near so cross as he did in here. He said that a great many years ago he had a little girl just like me, and he kissed me, too."
"Did I ever!" cried Kat, quite carried away by curiosity. "And is that all that he said?"
"No, but I can't tell the rest, now, but he's going to bring me some candy and I'll give you all some."