Part 8 (1/2)

I laughed.

”Aunt Penelope believed in plain food,” I said.

”Trust her for that,” remarked my father. ”I could see at an eye's glance that she was the sort of old lady who'd starve the young.”

”Oh, no,” I answered; ”you are quite mistaken. Aunt Penelope never starved me and was never unkind to me. I love her very dearly, and I must ask you, father, please, not to speak against her to me.”

”Well, I won't, child; I admire loyalty in others. Now then, leave those kidneys and bacon alone. Have some cold tongue. What! you have had enough? Have a kipper, then. No? What a small appet.i.te my little girl has got! At least have some bread and b.u.t.ter and marmalade. No again?

Dear, dear--why, the sky must be going to fall! Well, I'll tell you what--we'll have some fruit.”

”Oh, dad, I should like that,” I said.

”Your bones are younger than mine, child,” remarked the Major; ”you must press that bell. Ah! here comes James. James, the very ripest melon you can procure; if you haven't it in the hotel, send out for it. Let us have it here with some powdered ginger and white sugar in less than ten minutes.”

”Yes, sir,” answered the man. He bowed respectfully and withdrew.

”What are you staring at, Heather?” asked my father.

”You called that man James,” I said. ”Is that his name?”

”Bless you, child, I don't know from Adam what his name is. I generally call all waiters 'James' when I'm in England; most of them are James, so that name as a rule hits the nail on the head. In Germany Fritz is supposed to be the word to say. But now, what are you thinking of? Oh, my little darling, it's I who am glad to have you back!”

I left the table, and when James--whose real name I afterwards heard was Edgar--came back, he found me throttling father's neck and pressing my cheek against his.

”Where's the charm I gave you, Heather? I trust you have it safe.”

I pointed with great pride to where it reposed on a little chain which held my tiny watch.

”By Jove,” said father, ”you are a good child to have kept it so long.

It will bring you luck--I told you it was a lucky stone. It was about to be placed on the tomb of the prophet Mahomet when I came across it and rescued it, but it was placed before then on many other sacred shrines.

It will bring you luck, little Heather. But now, in the name of fortune, tell me who gave you this gold watch?”

”Aunt Pen gave it to me,” I said. ”She gave it to me my last birthday; she said it had belonged to my mother, but that she had taken it after mother's death. She said she knew that mother would wish me to have it--which, of course, is the case. I love it and I love the little gold chain, and I love the charm, father.”

”The charm is the most valuable of all, for it brings luck,” said my father. ”Now, sit down and enjoy your melon.”

I don't think I had ever tasted an English melon before, and this one was certainly in superb condition. I rejoiced in its cool freshness and ate two or three slices, while father watched me, a pleased smile round his lips.

”I am going to take you to Lady Helen this morning, Heather.”

”Yes, father,” I answered, and I put down my last piece of melon, feeling that my appet.i.te for the delicious fruit had suddenly faded.

”Why don't you finish your fruit, child?”

”I have had enough,” I said.

”That's a bad habit,” said my father, ”besides being bad form. Well-bred girls invariably finish what is put on their plates; I want you to be well-bred, my dear. You'll have so much to do with Lady Helen in the future that you must take advantage of a connection of that sort.

Besides, being your father's daughter, it also behoves you to act as a lady.”