tioned
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.

"Yes," returned Jennie; "but you're only a little girl. Besides you
mustn't say anything like that at the table. It isn't nice."

"Uncle Lester eats too much sugar," was her immediate rejoinder, at
which that fine gourmet smiled broadly.

"I don't know about that," he put in, for the first time deigning
to answer her directly. "That sounds like the fox and grapes to me."
Vesta smiled back at him, and now that the ice was broken she
chattered on unrestrainedly. One thing led to another, and at last
Lester felt as though, in a way, the little girl belonged to him; he
was willing even that she should share in such opportunities as his
position and wealth might make possible--provided, of course,
that he stayed with Jennie, and that they worked out some arrangement
which would not put him hopelessly out of touch with the world which
was back of him, and which he had to keep constantly in mind.

CHAPTER XXXII

The following spring the show-rooms