“I want my little broom,” she exclaimed and marched sedately past, at which manifestation of spirit Lester again twitched internally, this time allowing the slightest suggestion of a smile to play across his mouth.
The final effect of this intercourse was gradually to break down the feeling of distaste Lester had for the child, and to establish in its place a sort of tolerant recognition of her possibilities as a human being.
The developments of the next six months were of a kind to further relax the strain of opposition which still existed in Lester’s mind. Although not at all resigned to the somewhat tainted atmosphere in which he was living, he yet found himself so comfortable that he could not persuade himself to give it up. It was too much like a bed of down. Jennie was too worshipful. The condition of unquestioned liberty, so far as all his old social relationships were concerned, coupled with the privilege of quiet, simplicity, and affection in the home was too inviting. He lingered on, and began to feel that perhaps it would be just as well to let matters rest as they were.
During this period his friendly relations with the little Vesta insensibly strengthened. He discovered that there was a real flavor of humor about Vesta’s doings, and so came to watch for its development. She was forever doing something interesting, and although Jennie watched over her with a care that was in itself a revelation to him, nevertheless Vesta managed to elude every effort to suppress her and came straight home with her remarks. Once, for example, she was sawing away at a small piece of meat upon her large plate with her big knife, when Lester remarked to Jennie that it might be advisable to get her a little breakfast set.
“She can hardly handle these knives.”
“Yes,” said Vesta instantly. “I need a little knife. My hand is just so very little.”
She held it up. Jennie, who never could tell what was to follow, reached over and put it down, while Lester with difficulty restrained a desire to laugh.
Another morning, not long after, she was watching Jennie put the lumps of sugar in Lester’s cup, when she broke in with, “I want two lumps in mine, mamma.”
“No, dearest,” replied Jennie, “you don’t need any in yours. You have milk to drink.”
“Uncle Lester has two,” she protested.