Another skip of two months.
“It seems that my recent purchase of the sandy tract north of the river, where extensive building operations are already under way, has earned for me the local reputation of being ‘cracked!’ Yet I smile at these stories. Only Madden and I know the truth! Harold, I understand, has a baby girl. But he has not written to me. I rather prefer, though, to have our quarrel stand. And to that point I dare say my daughter-in-law, after what I purposely said to her, will forever bear me malice, that being her nature.”
A skip of a month.
“My granddaughter’s name is Ruth Louise. I find myself longing to see this new mite of humanity, in whom, some day, will be vested the combined fortunes of our entire household.”
A skip of two years.
“At last I am in my new home. And knowing how advisable is the isolation, very peaceful and contented I find myself here. Yet, to that point, what do I lack to complete my earthly happiness, unless, possibly, reconciliation with my son and his family? I have, I think, a very beautiful and not ordinary home here; nor have I neglected the immediate surroundings. As I look down from my window, my eyes are greeted by a gorgeous growth of foliage that almost would do credit to the tropics. What wonders fertilization and re-soiling have worked here! The results far outweigh the expense. Madden still dreams of his sanitarium. And what more suitable place than this! My remaining years may not be many, and he is still a comparatively young man. I can understand his great joy to learn, by the terms of my will, that this mammoth place (a ‘white elephant,’ Harold calls it) will be placed at his disposal.... I owe it to him.”
A skip of five years.
“Kept in bed by a return of the dreaded symptoms, I was unable this week to attend my son’s funeral in Minneapolis, and thus, no doubt, am further estranged from my unbending and now independently-wealthy daughter-in-law. Would, though, that the granddaughter might take a less harsh view of me.”
Another skip of five years.
“This has been an amazingly joyful week. My granddaughter has been here—not, however, with her mother’s consent or even to her mother’s knowledge! What a wonderful child Ruth is, and how great will be my joy to make her my heir. In this house of an ‘an old man’s fancy,’ I showed her to-day the hidden staircase behind the moon. She calls this desert home of mine ‘Aladdin’s Palace,’ though innocently dropping a remark the while to the effect that her mother calls it the ‘Ogre’s Den.’ So I am an ‘ogre’ in the eyes of my daughter-in-law! Ruth undoubtedly has had to unlearn a lot of things about me in the few days that she has been here. And she admits now that it was largely curiosity to see the ‘ogre’ that brought her here. Her evident affection for me, as she has come to really know me, is a joy beyond words. To-morrow she goes on to visit my cousin Samantha Doane, where she is supposed to have been during the past week. May it be that Samantha, good woman that she is, does not implant in the younger mind the seed of too vigorous conversation.”