BURNED TOAST
She smiled at me as she sat down at the table. "I always love to come with you, Jim Crow."
"Why?"
"You do things so well, and you're such a darling."
I do not believe that it was intended as flattery. I am sure that she meant it. She was happy because of the lights and the lovely old room with its cavernous fireplace and its English chintzes; and out of her happiness she spoke.
She could not, of course, know the effect of her words on me. No one had ever called me a darling or had thought that I did things well.
She used, too, to tell me things about my looks. "You'd be like one of those distinguished gentlemen of Vandyke's if you'd wear a ruff and leave off your eye-glasses."
I wonder if you know how it seemed to have a child like that saying such things. For she was more than a child, she was a beautiful woman, and everything surrounding her was beautiful. And there had been a great many gray years before I met Perry and before the money came which made pleasant living possible.
"I like you because you are strong," was another of her tributes.
"How do you know I am strong?"
179
