"Let's pretend!" she whispered, "Let's pretend I didn't do it! Now
let's pretend I'm Grandy!"

Pretending she was her Grandfather Trenton was one of their most
delicious games. She would tap on the door, delicately, and ask in
mincing imitation of the French woman,

"Madame, will you see ze Major?" Then, with great dignity she would
advance to the bedside.

"Ah! Octavia!" she would say, eloquently, "How charming you look to-
day!"

For that was what Grandy always said when he came into the room to see
Maman.

You'd have liked Major Trenton. You'd have liked him a lot. But you
could have liked him more if he'd been a little kinder to Felice. For
by one of those strange, unexplained twists of human nature this fine
gentleman, who was so tolerant with his uncouth servants and so
admirably gentle with his wee dogs, was unconsciously cruel to the
small grand-daughter who so adored him. She adored his immaculate
neatness, the ruddy pinkness of his skin; she loved his wavy white
hair and the deep sparkle of his dark eyes. She saw nothing droll
about the peaked felt hat and long black coat that he persisted in
wearing, or about the ruffled shirt, with its absurd flaring collar
and black satin stock. She even loved the empty coat sleeve pinned
inside his breast pocket. She thought him the most beautiful human in
the whole world. She lived in constant dread of what Grandy would or