“Thor,” then says the gentleman, “whose portrait did I tell you that was?” And he points to an oil-painting hanging over the piano.
“Grandpapa MacGentle, papa!”
“What did he do for all of us?”
As Master Thor hesitates a moment, the little golden-haired lady breaks in,—“I know, papa! He made uth rich, and gave uth our houthe, and he thaw me when I wath a wee, wee baby, and then he—he—”
“He went to Heaven, papa!” says Thor, recovering himself.
Hereupon there was a silence, because the two children, glancing up in their father’s face, saw that it was grave and thoughtful.
But suddenly the little girl pricks up her small ears, and scrambles to the carpet, and sets off for the door at full speed, without a word. Thor is close behind, but just too late to be first in opening the door.
And Balder Helwyse springs up, and as she enters with the rejoicing children at each hand, he meets her with the thrilling smile which, in this world, she will never see!
Cambridge: Electrotyped and Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co.