"Ah, not those you see now; but their parents, yes. They were faithful; though sometimes, some of them, sympathizing differently. Well, and so there was grandpère working to repair a piece of the State, when at last the war finished and the reconstruction of the whole State commenced. He and Ovide were both of that State convention they mobbed in the 'July riot.' Some men were killed in that riot. Grandpère was wounded, also Ovide. Those were awful times to grand'mère, those years of the reconstruction. Grandpère he--" The girl glanced backward, then turned again, smiling. The four chaperons were going indoors without them.
"Yes," Chester said, "your grandpère I can imagine----"
"Well, go ahead; imagine, to me."
"No. No, except just enough to see him with no choice of party allegiance but between a rabble up to the elbows in robbery and an old régime red-handed with the rabble's blood."
"Ah, so papa told me, after grandpère was long gone, and me on his knee asking questions. 'Reconstruction, my dear child--' once he answered me, ''twas like trying to drive, on the right road, a frantic horse in a rotten harness, and with the reins under his tail!' Ah, I wish you could have known him, Mr. Chester--my father!"
"I know his daughter."
"Well, I suppose--I suppose we must go in."
"With the story almost finished?"
"We'll, maybe finish inside--or--some day."