The
room was as cool and fresh with its summer draperies and shaded windows
as if it were not fervid July weather outside.
Richard flung one exulting glance at his grandfather, for the sight was
one to please the eyes of any man even if he had no such interest in the
performers as these two had. The elder man smiled, for he was very happy
in these days, happier than he had been for a quarter of a century.
The music ceased with the last slow harp-tones, the 'cello's earlier
upflung bow waving in a gesture of triumph.
"Splendid, Rufus!" she commended. "You never did it half so well."
"She never did," agreed a familiar voice from the other end of the room,
and the sisters turned with a start. Richard advanced down the room, Mr.
Kendrick following more slowly.
"You look as cool as a pond-lily, love," said Richard, "in spite of this
July weather." His approving eyes regarded Roberta's cheek at close
range. "Is it as cool as it looks?" he inquired, and placed his own
cheek against it for an instant, regardless of the others present.
Roberta laid her hand in Mr. Kendrick's, and the old man raised it to
his lips, in a stately fashion he sometimes used.
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