"How I've missed you, Anna!" as he drew me toward his large arm-chair, and folded me, his latest child, to his heart.
As thus we were sitting in the silence of the heart that needs no language, little Jeffy, my ebony-beauty boy, darted his black head in, and reposing it for one instant against the scarcely lighter-hued mahogany of the door, jingled out, in shells of sound,—
"He's mighty fur'ous. It's real fun. I guess you'd better come right up,
Dr. Percival;" and the ebon head darted off, without one word for me.
Why was it that this little omission of Jeffy's, the African boy, should create a vacancy? Oh! it is because Nature made me so exacting. I wanted everybody to welcome me.
I lifted my head from my father's shoulder, and asked, in some dismay,—
"What is it, father?"
"I've gotten myself in trouble, Anna. I've let chaos into my house. I wanted you to help me."
"What is it? what has happened?" I hastened to inquire.
"Only a hospital patient that I was foolish enough to bring away. I heartily wish that he was back again," said my father; and he put me from him to go, in obedience to the summons.
I was about to follow him, but he waved me back as I went into the hall, and he went on. I heard the ring of a low, frenzied laugh, as I began unwrapping from my journey. My casket of treasures I had committed to bands for keeping. Now I laid it down, and, folding up my protective robes, I had just gone to try my father's easy-chair, alone, when Jeffy's ebon head struck in again.