He was in
fact not a philosopher, but a sentimentalist.
"If mother doesn't think it's sensible, why do it, father?" asked Zoe
anxiously, looking up into her father's face.
She had seen the look in her mother's eyes, and also she had no love for
her grandfather. Her instinct had at one time wavered regarding him; but
she had seen an incident with a vanished female cook, and though she had
not understood, a prejudice had been created in her mind. She was always
contrasting him with M. Fille, who, to her mind, was what a grandfather
ought to be.
"I won't have him beholden to you," said Carmen, almost passionately.
"He is of my family," said Jean Jacques firmly and chivalrously. "There
is no question of being beholden."
"Let well enough alone," was the gloomy reply. With a sigh, Jean Jacques
turned back to the study of the road before him, to gossip with Zoe, and
to keep on planning subconsciously the new things he must do.
Carmen sighed too, or rather she gave a gasp of agitation and annoyance.
Her father? She had lost whatever illusion once existed regarding him.
For years he had clung to her--to her pocket. He was given to drinking
in past years, and he still had his sprees.
Pages:
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60