My mother and my grandmother went to the door with Madame Tomaso, and
saw her out quite as if she were company, and then they came back into
the parlor and gazed at me. They did not seem to know just what to say.
It was evident that I had done something dreadful. I began to be
frightened. We had a big black cellar, with dark, cavernous recesses
where cobwebs swayed about, and dwarfs peeped out at you. I wished that
it was night, and I was safe in my bed.
Then somebody shuffled in behind me, and patted my head softly. I looked
up into two merry blue eyes.
"Don't you fret, Rhoda," a sympathizing voice said. "Granddad will stand
by you."
Even now when he is only a memory I can still feel the thrill of
gratitude with which I clung to his protecting hand.