"Grandpapa," said Joel, his black eyes shining, and bobbing over his head to get a good look into the old gentleman's face, "she's asked him, she really has!"
"Who?" asked Mr. King, very much puzzled.
"Mrs. Sterling," said Joel, in a tone of the greatest satisfaction. Then he began to dance again, snapping his brown fingers to keep time.
"When you come out of that war dance, Joel," said old Mr. King, leaning back in his big chair to laugh at him, "perhaps you'll have the goodness to tell me whom you are talking about all this time."
Joel stopped his mad career and ran up to the old gentleman's side.
"Why Jack Parish—I thought you knew, Grandpapa," he added reproachfully.
"I suppose I might have known if I'd stopped to consider that you've talked
your Parish boy every day since the little affair on the pond," said Mr.
King, still laughing. "Well, and so Mrs. Sterling has invited your friend,
Joel, to some festivity, I suppose, eh?"
"Yes," said Joel, "she has"—his satisfaction returning—"it's a supper at her house, to-morrow night, Grandpapa." He leaned over to bring his brown cheek close to the one under the white hair. "Just think of that!"
"Whew!" ejaculated the old gentleman, "and she hasn't had company for ten years!"
"Well, she's going to have us, every single one in the Comfort committee,"
declared Joel decidedly, "and she asked Jack, most particularly; she did,
Grandpapa—she really did. May I go down and tell him now? May I,
Grandpapa?" he cried eagerly.