hand to him familiarly.
"Would you like a drive?" he called.
"Wouldn't I?" she replied. "Wait till I tell the folks."
She was back in a moment, and ran out of the gate and down the steps.
The colonel gave her his hand and she sprang up beside him.
They drove through the cemetery, and into the outlying part of the
town, where there were some shaded woodland stretches. It was a
pleasant afternoon; cloudy enough to hide the sun. Graciella's eyes
sparkled and her cheek glowed with pleasure, while her light brown
hair blown about her face by the breeze of their rapid motion was like
an aureole.
"Colonel French," she said as they were walking the horse up a hill,
"are you going to give a house warming?"
"Why," he said, "I hadn't thought of it. Ought I to give a house
warming?"
"You surely ought. Everybody will want to see your house while it is
new and bright. You certainly ought to have a house warming."
"Very well," said the colonel. "I make it a rule to shirk no plain
duty. If I _ought_ to have a house warming, I _will_ have it. And you
shall be my social mentor. What sort of a party shall it be?"
"Why not make it," she said brightly, "just such a party as your
father would have had. You have the old house, and the old furniture.
Give an old-time party."
* * * * *
In fitting up his house the colonel had been animated by the same
feeling that had moved him to its purchase. He had endeavoured to
restore, as far as possible, the interior as he remembered it in his
childhood. At his father's death the furniture had been sold and
scattered. He had been able, through the kindly interest of his
friends, to recover several of the pieces. Others that were lost past
hope, had been reproduced from their description. Among those
recovered was a fine pair of brass andirons, and his father's
mahogany desk, which had been purchased by Major Treadwell at the sale
of the elder French's effects.
Miss Laura had been the first to speak of the desk.
"Henry," she had said, "the house would not be complete without your
father's desk. It was my father's too, but yours is the prior claim.
Take it as a gift from me."
He protested, and would have paid for it liberally, and, when she
would take nothing, declared he would not accept it on such terms.
"You are selfish, Henry," she replied, with a smile. "You have brought
a new interest into our lives, and into the town, and you will not l
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