“But do you think they realised what a wonderful niece we sent them?”
I remained unembarrassed, being accustomed from my earliest days to the broadest compliments. I answered simply:
“Yes, grandfather, they found your granddaughter wonderful.”
“You must tell us everything in detail. Your grandmother and I wish to know all that happened hour by hour, day by day, word for word, all, in fact, and even what you thought.”
“And dreamed?” I asked. “What an effort of memory I shall have to make!”
“We have been so lonely. Your father came once a week to talk you over with your grandmother.”
“And did the usual ‘family drama’ happen every time?”
“Of course, but it always ended happily, because when your father rose to take leave, either your grandmother or I would always say: ‘Dear me! how we must love that little woman, to be always quarrelling about her,’ and then we all said good-bye with a laugh.”
“I shall have to take seriously in hand the matter of reconciling my grandmother’s and my father’s ideas concerning me,” I answered so gravely that grandfather began to laugh mockingly.
“Nonsense!” said he, moving so suddenly that he dropped the reins. When he had picked them up, I grew angry.