"Oh, Meacham, I'm glad to see you," she cried impulsively, taking the little withered man's hands into both of hers.
There was no reply, only in the burnt-out eyes a sudden mist—the first since his mistress had passed away.
"Dad, do you mind if I run down a moment to see Lizzie and Janet and Amanda? Dear, I'll be right back——" She was gone, light-footed, eager, down the service stairs—a child again in the twinkling of an eye. The two men, vaguely smiling, remained standing.
When she returned, Meacham seated her. She picked up the blossom beside her plate, saw the other at the unoccupied place opposite, and her eyes suddenly filled.
There was a moment's silence, then she kissed the petals and placed the flower in her hair.
"My idea," she began, cheerfully, "is to waste no time in life! So I think I'd like to go to the theatre all the time——"
The men's laughter checked her and she joined in.
"You do understand, both of you!" she insisted. "You're tormenting me and you know it! I don't go to the theatre to amuse myself. I go to inform myself—to learn, study, improve myself in the art of self-expression—Jim, you are a beast to grin at me!"
"Steve, for Heaven's sake, be a human girl for a few moments and have a good time!"
"That's my way of having a good time. I wish to go to studios and see painters and sculptors at work! I wish to go to plays and concerts——"