Having made up his mind to let the child go to Europe, the old fellow
allowed no wails or bemoanings to reach Patsy's ears to deprive her of a
moment's joyful anticipation of the delights in store for her. He
laughed and joked perpetually during that last day, and promised the
girl that he would take a vacation while she was gone and visit his old
colonel in Virginia, which she knew was the rarest pleasure he could
enjoy. And now he stood upon the deck amusing them all with his quaint
sayings and appearing so outwardly jolly and unaffected that only Patsy
herself suspected the deep grief that was gripping his kindly old
heart.

Uncle John guessed, perhaps, for he hugged the Major in a tight embrace,
whispering that Patsy should be now, as ever, the apple of his eye and
the subject of his most loving care.

"An' don't be forgetting to bring me the meerschaum pipe from Sicily an'
the leathern pocket-book from Florence," the Major said to Patsy,
impressively. "It's little enough for ye to remember if ye go that way,
an' to tell the truth I'm sending ye abroad just for to get them. An'
don't be gettin' off the boat till it stops at a station; an' remember
that Uncle John is full of rheumatics an' can't walk more n' thirty mile
an hour, an'--"

"It's a slander," said Uncle John, stoutly. "I never had rheumatics in
my life."

"Major," observed Patsy, her blue eyes full of tears but her lips trying
to smile, "do have the tailor sponge your vest every Saturday. It's full
of spots even now, and I've been too busy lately to look after you