When at last they reached the study, Caro looked on with deep interest while her grandfather unlocked a cabinet and took from it a small silver candlestick of beautiful design.
“How pretty! Is it to put the candles in?”
Dr. Barrows glanced up at the portrait of a sweet-faced young woman in an old-fashioned gown, as he replied.
“This candlestick belonged to your grandmother, Caro, when she was a little girl, and now I am going to give it to another little girl who has her name, and who sometimes reminds me of her. You are to put one of the candles in it and put it on your dressing table, and when the gas is out after you go to bed you can have a little candle-light to keep you from being lonely.”
“You are the dearest, sweetest, goodest grandpa in the world!” Caro exclaimed with a ferocious hug. “The dear little candlestick! I’ll never be lonesome any more.”
Aunt Charlotte shook her head and called it a compromise, when the plan was explained to her, but made no real objection to it.
There was a faculty meeting that evening in the president’s study, and two of the members had arrived and were talking with their host when a shrill voice was heard crying: “Go away Jane, I will call him! O grandpa!”
Dr. Barrows rose hastily and left the room, saying: “Excuse me gentlemen, my little granddaughter is calling me.”
From the hall he had a vision of Caro—her small red slippers peeping out from her long white gown, her curly head looking over the stair rail. Behind her was Jane, the upstairs maid whispering sternly, “Come back Caro this minute, you are a naughty girl!”
“I just want you to see my candle lighted, grandpa,” Caro said hopping down three steps to meet him, and taking his hand while Jane retired shaking her head. She stood in great awe of the president, and in her eyes a faculty meeting was almost as sacred as a church service.