“Yes, Uncle Foster,” she answered. “He was very much surprised.”
“I’ll bet! And glad to have you go, of course?”
She pretended not to notice the irony in the question.
“Why, he was glad I was to have such a wonderful trip and the opportunity to keep on with my music,” she replied.
“Um-hum. I’m sure of that. Coming around Friday night, as usual, is he?”
“I—I don’t know.... Why, yes, I do know, too. He said he should come, so I suppose he will.”
The statement seemed, for some reason, to irritate him. He thrust the folded napkin into the ornate and massive silver ring—it had been a birthday gift from his wife—and rose to his feet.
“Humph!” he growled. “I’ll bet! If he ’tends church as regular as he does here he’ll stand a better chance for heaven than any of his crew I ever heard of.... There, there!” he added, his ill-humor vanishing as quickly as it came. “Don’t mind my crankiness. I am liable to be that way for a while. Every time I think of sitting down to breakfast here without you I want to bite somebody. For the first few mornings after you leave I guess likely ’twill be better to have Nabby wait on table, instead of the other girl. Nabby would be moderately safe. I don’t imagine I should bite her; she’s too old and stringy to tempt my appetite.”
He mentioned Bob’s name but once more that morning. Then he asked a question he had asked before.
“Has he told his grandfather yet about how sociable and friendly he has got to be with us?” he inquired. “No?... Humph! Saving the news for the old man’s birthday, maybe, the way you and he saved up that picture for mine. Well, many happy returns, Elisha. Ho, ho!”