on]

When he was bright he was almost like his old self, and these delusive
periods came oftenest when he met some old friend, or in quiet morning
hours when his daughter--so he always called her--sat at his feet in the
sunny breakfast-room, and sewed and listened, or perhaps read to him
from Scott's latest novel.

He may have had some faint sub-consciousness of his condition, for
although he took the deepest interest in the balls and the dinners, he
would never appear before his son's guests except when he was at his
best and brightest. But he loved to sit, withdrawn in a corner, watching
the young life that fluttered through the great rooms, smiling to
himself, and gently pleased if some old crony sought him out and talked
of old times--the older the times were, the better he remembered them.
Indeed, he now recalled some things that he had not thought of since his
far-off boyhood.

In truth, the younger Dolphs often had small heart in their festal
doings. But the medical science of the day, positive, self-satisfied,
and blinded by all manner of tradition, gave them, through its
ministers, cruelly false hopes of the old man's ultimate recovery.
Besides, they could not well order things otherwise. The extravagant
hospitality of the day demanded such ceremonial, and to have abated any
part of it would only have served to grieve and to alarm the object of
their care.

The whole business was a constant pride and joy to old Mr. Jacob Dolph.
When there was a dinner to be given, he would follow Aline as she went
about the house superintending the preparations of her servants, in her
flowered apron of black silk, with her bunch of keys--honest keys,
those, a good four inches long, with tongues as big as a
domino--jingling at her side. He would himself overlook the making ready
of the wines, and give oft-repeated instructions as to the proper
temperature for the port, and see that the champagne was put on ice in
the huge octagonal cellaret in the dining-room corner. And when all was
ready, as like as not he would kiss Aline on the forehead, and say:

"I have a headache to-night, my dear, and I think I shall take my dinner
in my room."

[Illustration: "Mons'us gran' dinneh, Seh!"]

And he would go feebly up stairs, and when old Julius, who always waited
upon him, brought up his tray, he would ask:

"Is it a fine dinner, Julius? Did everybody come?"

And Julius would invariably reply, with profound African dignity: