Bending close to the keyhole, she heard sounds of sobbing, mingled with low, soothing words spoken by her uncle.
She softly opened the door, and standing upon the threshold, her face grew dark and wrathful at the picture which she saw within the room.
Mr. Rosevelt sat in his arm-chair by the table which stood between the two windows of his room, while Star knelt upon the floor at his side, her golden head bowed upon the arm of his chair, sobbing as if her heart was breaking.
The old gentleman had laid one hand upon her bright head, and was soothing it gently as he tried to quiet her with low, fond words.
“Dear child,” he said, tenderly, “don’t grieve so; you have been very brave so far; bear it a little longer, and all will be well. I know you have tried to hide it from me and every one else, but I’ve seen and known what you have had to contend with ever since I came here. You’ve had no love, no sympathy, and your poor, starved heart was well-nigh broken under it. But cheer up, my dear; you have been a blessing to me. I have been very lonely and forlorn many times, but I should have had a sorrowful time of it, indeed, if my bright little Star had not shed her genial rays upon my pathway.”
“Indeed!” interrupted a voice from behind them, in its most sarcastic tones, causing Star to spring to her feet with a low cry of surprise, as she turned her flushed, tear-stained face toward the intruder, while Mr. Rosevelt looked up at his niece with a grave, displeased countenance.
“Indeed!” Mrs. Richards repeated, her anger waxing hotter and fiercer as she imagined that Star had been pouring the story of her love and trial into her uncle’s ears. “You have both been sadly abused and heart-starved, haven’t you? For a couple of dependents you fare very badly, don’t you? And this is the gratitude and appreciation that you show. Stella Gladstone, go back to your room and remain there until I come to you; I wish to have a private conversation with you. As for you, Uncle Jacob, I am surprised that you should take sides with a sentimental schoolgirl against those who are providing most bountifully for her.”
Mr. Rosevelt reached out his hand and took one of Star’s.
“Remain where you are,” he said, with a quiet authority which amazed while it enraged his niece.
Then turning to her, he continued, in the same quiet tone, but with a deliberation which made every word tell: