Cute grandpa and granddaughter quotes: inspiring verses and poems for grandfathers

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Famous Quotes & Sayings About Cute Grandpa And Granddaughter

List of top 15 famous quotes and sayings about cute grandpa and granddaughter to read and share with friends on your Facebook, Twitter, blogs.

Top 15 Cute Grandpa And Granddaughter Quotes

#1. My only fear is doing something contrary to human nature — the wrong thing, the wrong way, or at the wrong time. — Author: Marcus Aurelius

#2. I kicked down doors to show that Hiphop has matured. And it may be a little controversial. — Author: Slick Rick

#3. But most of all, what really attracted me to her was her manner. She laughed a lot, and it’s easy to fall for someone who can find humor in any situation. She was also intelligent, well read, and well spoken, willing to listen and confident in her beliefs. And most of all, she was warm. — Author: Nicholas Sparks

#4. If you let a child know that you think he is lazy, sloppy, untruthful, unpleasant, and thoughtless, he’ll probably prove you are right. Obviously, it is much better to make him stretch to reach a positive image than stoop to match one at ground level. — Author: James Dobson

#5. Since Eve negotiated Adam, I am the most disadvantaged negotiator in history of mankind. I have no army, no navy, no air force, no economy. — Author: Saeb Erekat

#6. I do not consecrate myself to be a missionary or a preacher. I consecrate myself to God to do His will where I am, be it in school, office, or kitchen, or wherever He may, in His wisdom, send me. — Author: Watchman Nee

#7. When we elevate others, we elevate ourselves. Let’s all go be «elevators.»
KMR — Author: Kathleen M. Rodgers

#8. Junk?» Lina repeated, incredulous. Oh, she wasn’t about to let that pass. — Author: Jaleigh Johnson

#9. Stop filtering your nutrients through somebody else’s body. — Author: Gary Yourofsky

#10. Looking for God-or Heaven-by exploring space is like reading or seeing all Shakespeare’s plays in the hope that you will find Shakespeare as one of the characters … — Author: C.S. Lewis

#11. But it’s not so much a headache as possession, my head an occupied territory, and my normal self, a disenfranchised native populace, driven underground. — Author: Andrew Levy

#12. The universe is talking. All we have to do is stop and listen. — Author: Joseph Inzirillo

#13. This isn’t champagne anymore. We went through the champagne a long time ago. This is serious stuff. The days of champagne are long gone.Author: Sam Shepard

#14. The hardship of living in a refugee camp made me psychologically strong. — Author: Philip Emeagwali

#15. The cause of all human evils is the not being able to apply general principles to special cases. — Author: Epictetus

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Read Online Grandpa and Granddaughter by Elizabeth Mead-Smith — Litres

* * *

Chapter I

Garlands of Daisies

white daisies. Her aunt Dorothea looked at the girl from the window of her boudoir [1] , located on the ground floor of an old house where many generations of the Sesiger family lived.

Dorothy was in her seventh year. She was dressed in a white dress, soft and wide, undulating around her in waves. On a rather thin face shone very serious black eyes; thick dark hair curled on his head. The girl threw off her hat, which was now lying on the grass, and diligently weaved a garland of daisies, on her knees there were a lot of these little flowers. The baby’s face seemed serious and preoccupied. She tightly squeezed her pink lips, sighed heavily and whispered:

— What unbearable, naughty flowers!

And as she uttered these words, a slight wrinkle appeared between her delicate, as if painted with a brush, thin eyebrows.

Miss Dorothea Sesijer looked at the cute little creature. Dorothy was not yet seven years old, and meanwhile she took possession of the whole lawn. Aunt Dorothea was terribly thin, bony, angular; she combed her hair in the old fashioned way, and was distinguished by remarkable neatness. Many expensive rings glittered on her thin fingers, an old pearl brooch flaunted on her chest, an old-fashioned satin dress covered her thin body, a small black lace shawl hugged her shoulders.

Dorothea was sitting in her boudoir, which, it is true, still retained traces of its former elegance, but clearly proved that now the hostess had completely abandoned it.

The child playing on the lawn was bathed in golden sunlight and seemed so unlike Dorothea that he could be mistaken for a being from another world. And yet there was a great family resemblance between this pretty girl and the emaciated old maid. Only in every movement, in every glance of Dorothy, cheerfulness, courage and agility were visible, while Dorothea had a frightened soul and no courage. The natural liveliness and courage in her was destroyed by life in complete submission to her willful father.

— Grandpa, the time has passed! — sounded a thin, bright, piercing voice.

Dorothy got up from the grass, straightened her white muslin [2] dress, brushed back her dark curls, and ran across the lawn to the other side of the house. Aunt Dorothea started: she heard what the girl said and saw where she went.

“What will happen now? thought Dorothea. I’m even scared to imagine it! He will treat her cruelly; say something unkind, as usual. It always happens that way.»

— Grandpa, grandpa! Time has passed, it has passed! Dorothy needs you,” the childish voice sounded commanding.

“Shouldn’t you go downstairs, wouldn’t it be better to take her away before he spoke? thought Aunt Dorothea. He always sleeps at this time. No, no, I’m too, too scared. Oh, if only I wasn’t so terribly afraid of him. I don’t want this little creature to stop being brave. But he will break everyone! He killed all vivacity and determination in me … I am already forty-three years old, and I have never really lived. I just ate, slept and did what he told me to do. But Dorothy, who is not yet seven, is not afraid of anyone and nothing. But, of course, he will intimidate her too. Poor, poor girl.»

“Grandfather, grandfather,” the cheerful, sonorous voice continued to call.

No answer was heard, and a small creature with a long garland of daisies wrapped around its neck, climbed into the open window and stood on an old, completely worn carpet, looking at a decrepit man who was sleeping in a large deep armchair.

Sir Roger Seziger was in his late eighties but looked ten years older. Once he was very tall, but now he was hunched over so much that he seemed almost short. Previously, he was considered very handsome, and even now, in his old age, his black eyes shone brightly and looked with a fixed, penetrating look. The minute Dorothy came out to him they were closed, and that seemed very strange to the girl. She folded her little hands and looked thoughtfully at her grandfather.

“He is sleeping soundly,” the little girl thought. — And I told him that he should wake up at four o’clock, and I wove two garlands — one for him, the other for myself. I remember how my mother always said that you need to keep your word.

She took three steps forward. The old man, who was fast asleep, did not suspect that his granddaughter was standing in front of him. A faint blush appeared on the girl’s tender cheeks. At that moment she was very pretty, although her swarthy little face looked a little like that of a Southern woman. Quickly, quickly, Dorothy climbed onto the sleeping man’s lap and with deft fingers threw a garland of daisies around his neck.

«Do you want to open his eyes with your fingers or not?» she thought.

The old man sat back in his chair, and Dorothy sat on his lap. Seeing that she was slipping a little, the girl took her grandfather’s big hand and wrapped it around her waist.

“I’m much more comfortable now,” she thought. “How much I like grandpa, he looks like dad.”

— Hey! her voice sounded.

The old man shuddered violently, nearly dropping to the floor a small, butterfly-like creature sitting on his lap.

— What is it, Dorothy?

– What, Grandpa? You know, you should keep your word! she announced.

The old man looked at the girl with an expression that, of course, never appeared in his eyes at the sight of his daughter Dorothea. Little Dorothy also looked at him with laughing eyes, looking cheerfully, affectionately and trustingly.

— Hold me a little tighter, grandpa; I’m slipping a little,» she said. — Now it’s good. Well, did you sleep well?

— Who let you come here? grandfather asked sternly.

— Nobody. I just took and came.

You shouldn’t be doing this anymore. Never come again.

These words seemed to puzzle Dorothy for a moment.

“You know, it doesn’t suit you to frown,” she said. «Please hold me tight!» I’m very uncomfortable that I’m slipping. Mom always held me tight. That’s better. Well, aren’t we good together? Is it true? Do you know that you are wearing a garland of daisies and that I purposely wove it for you?

“Hush, hush,” the old man grimaced.

He wanted to rip the garland off his neck, but he only quickly and abruptly straightened up. The garland broke and fell to the floor.

– Oh, why did you do that? It’s very rude!

The girl’s eyes filled with tears. She jumped off her grandfather’s knees, picked up a long torn garland and tried to straighten it.

“Let’s go to the garden and make another garland,” she suggested as if nothing had happened. “Today is such a wonderful weather, the sun is shining so brightly, and here in your room it’s terrible. Let’s go, let’s go now. Oh, you old, old lazybones. If you had slept for another half a second, I would certainly have lifted your eyelids. You know, you shouldn’t have broken that word.

— Shut up! the old man interrupted her. “You are the most terrible fidget I have ever seen in my life.

— Well, you are a terrible, terrible monster. Better to be a terrible fidget than a monster.

He looked angrily at her again. She answered her grandfather with a bold look, and suddenly burst out laughing merrily and loudly.

– Do you know why I came here?

— Certainly not to wake me up when I’m resting. I’ll talk to your aunt Dorothea. She will put an end to this.

— Mommy said that I should love you, that I should open my heart and put you in it. You are very big and you don’t look at me very kindly, but my mother said that you are good, that you are very good, so that’s how you are. Well, now let’s go to the garden!

No one could tell what feelings stirred in the heart of Roger Sesiger when he heard the words of his little granddaughter, but the old man suddenly leaned over, pushed back the dark hair from Dorothy’s forehead and kissed her.

— Your father was my son. I kicked him out of the house and cursed him, but you don’t know what it means to curse.

Dorothy shook her head silently.

— He died and you were brought here. How can you love me when I kicked him out of the house? Ask Aunt Dorothea.

“I don’t understand what you are saying,” the little girl said. “I remember what my mother and father told me about you, and I know very well what I should do. Therefore, get up, grandfather, let’s go to the garden and let’s weave garlands of daisies.

When Aunt Dorothea saw Dorothy walking across the lawn with her grandfather by the hand, she became dizzy and could not move her arm or leg.

“If I hadn’t seen this with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed anyone,” she thought. “My father, my strict, stern father, is talking to this child!” Let’s see what they will do now.»

Dorothea really didn’t want anyone to see her, so she carefully knelt down behind the frayed window curtain and, pushing it slightly aside, began to look through the crack.

The woman was startled by what she saw: old Sir Roger Seziger was sitting on a lawn strewn with countless beautiful little daisies, while Dorothy was diligently weaving fresh garlands of flowers with caring fingers, and then putting them on her grandfather’s neck and arms. At the same time, she chatted all sorts of cute trifles, and gentle, silvery laughter resounded in the fresh summer air. The most amazing thing was that from time to time there was a strange dull sound that could hardly be called real laughter, but in any case it came from the lips of the person whom Miss Dorothea Seziger feared more than anything in the world.

“Yes, he has completely lost his head,” she whispered to herself, “he is sitting on the grass, and this girl does whatever she wants with him. He’ll probably catch a fatal cold. As far as I remember, he never did anything like that. When my brother and I were kids, he never played with us. We never put daisy garlands around his neck, and now he, so old and decrepit, carelessly sits down on the grass. Right, I have to talk to him. I will definitely talk. After all, he will catch a cold, become severely ill, and I will have to send for a doctor. Ah, what should I do, what should I do? I’m afraid to disturb him. He will certainly get angry, but something needs to be done.”

Not only Dorothea Seziger was worried, but also her maid, who at that time entered the room and served her mistress a cup of very weak tea and a small thin piece of bread, smeared with a barely noticeable layer of butter.

“Oh my God, miss,” she whispered.

Dorothea turned and looked at her with frightened eyes.

— Don’t say anything, Mary, we must not interfere in his affairs!

“This child is a blessing from heaven,” the maid said. She doesn’t look like anyone. Look, look, miss! There are both gardeners standing and looking through the green hedge. Really, I don’t know what Johnson and Peters will think.

“Whatever they think,” said Dorothea Seziger, getting up from her knees and turning to Mary, “let them not say anything. It doesn’t concern them at all.

— Of course not, miss. But I’m afraid Sir Sesiger might get rheumatism or something worse. After all, he was not at all used to sitting on the grass.

— I can’t do anything; I can’t interfere in his affairs,” Dorothea repeated, and turned to the table where tea was waiting for her.

Mary quietly left. Aunt Dorothea drank tea and ate bread and butter. The poor thing was very hungry. In the wealthy estate of Storm, no one ate their fill. At the same time, the Sezigers did not need at all: they were not burdened by debts, and they had a large rich estate. Good incomes came from all the farms, in addition, Sir Roger kept a lot of money and securities in the bank. The Seziger family had lived at Storm Manor for a long time, and if the old house could speak, it could tell a lot. Including the terrible vice that was passed from father to son. Almost all the owners of Storm Manor were stingy, but Sir Roger was the first stingy of stingy people, a miser in the full sense of the word. His stinginess bordered on insanity: he did not renovate either the house or other buildings of Storm and was only engaged in increasing his money bags.

There were hardly any servants in the old big house. The huge garden was looked after by only two gardeners, although at least ten or twelve people had to be hired. True, Dorothea was served by a separate maid, but only because no power in the world could force Mary to abandon her mistress. The maid received a salary when it was necessary and how much it was necessary.

There was also an old bartender named Carburi, a former tenant, who did everything in his power to keep the house in order. Carburi could not be driven out, just as Mary’s place could not be refused. These two devoted servants did most of the work. True, there was also a place for a dishwasher in the house, but no one lingered on it for a long time. Usually, a girl was taken to this position for a test — for a month. Most often, after this period, the servants left, because there was too much work, and too little food, and even that was frankly bad.

Sir Roger Sesiger and his wife had two children — Dorothea, who was now looking at little Dorothy from the window of her boudoir with such anxiety and surprise, and a son, heir to all the lands that belonged to Storm Manor. Many years ago this son left home. His story was very sad, humiliating for him and had to do with a strange little girl who stood on the lawn and dexterous fingers decorated her old grandfather, Sir Roger, with wild flowers.

Chapter II

After dinner

Dorothea Seziger was remarkable for her accuracy and accuracy. She always dressed up for dinner. Year after year, Dorothea wore the same old-fashioned dress, made of pale green satin with a long waist and short sleeves. Miss Sesiger did not know, and did not want to know, that this dress was completely unsuitable for her. Before supper, the maid Mary brought it in and laid it out on the bed with a solemn air. The old maid sat in front of the mirror, and the maid combed her hair, as it seemed to them both, very skillfully. The hair was parted and styled along the colorless face. There was a lot of gray hair in the dark locks, so that they looked piebald and the hairstyle came out ugly, but Dorothea Sesiger considered it fashionable and would never have combed it otherwise. She put very long earrings in her ears, wrapped a heavy gold chain around her neck — one of her favorite jewelry — and fastened thick gold bracelets on her hands. Then she put on old kid gloves and took with her an old painted fan that belonged to her mother.

In such a ridiculous outfit, she went down to the large living room and waited for Sir Roger to come. They never invited guests, as Sir Roger said it was too expensive. Dinner was served in a small dining room overlooking a lawn covered with daisies.

In winter, this room was piercingly cold, and even in summer it was not at all hot. Dorothea Seziger always stopped at the same place when she entered the drawing room, namely, near the window, which was usually closed. There she waited for her father, now opening and then closing her fan, playing with gloves and assuming the appearance of a woman accustomed to being in secular society.

Dinner was served at seven o’clock, second to second, and Dorothea came into the living room five minutes before that time. At two minutes to seven Carbury opened the door and Sir Roger appeared.

The old man observed all the old customs in the same way. To the table he put on a «dinner» suit, his shirt always shone like snow, his collar and cuffs were also distinguished by whiteness and freshness. He invariably stopped a few steps from his daughter and noticed every day:

— The weather is satisfactory.

“Yes,” she replied.

She always said yes, whether the sun was bright, whether it was snowing, whether it was raining. It never crossed her mind to contradict her father. And indeed, if she had done this, she would have had a bad time. Sir Roger did not like to be argued with.

On the very day that Miss Dorothea saw him playing with little Dorothy on the lawn, she looked at her father with a hidden anxiety that she did her best to hide. The old man furrowed his brows, but he always frowned, and she ignored it.

“The weather is fair,” he said.

She bowed, waved her fan and answered:

– Yes, father.

Mentally she asked herself if he didn’t feel well because he was sitting on the grass, but she didn’t have the heart to ask that question.

Carburi opened both halves of the dining room door.

“Dinner is served,” he said.

Sir Roger offered his daughter’s hand and they walked slowly into the next room. There was a table set for two. Sir Roger sat at one end, his daughter at the other. Soup was always served at dinner, but the broth most often had neither taste nor smell. And no wonder: when Sir Roger felt even the slightest aroma in the soup, he would certainly say to his daughter:0010

— This soup is too strong, it’s bad for me to eat such a thick broth. Please tell the cook tomorrow not to make such a strong broth.

In fact, there was no cook or cook in the house for a long time, and Dorothea and Mary prepared the dishes. The next day, poor Miss Seziger told the maid to add more water to the soup.

The second course was served with fish, but they chose the smallest and worst one in order to pay cheaper. Then came the roast, and Sir Roger usually remarked that meat was a completely unnecessary food, but Dorothea tried her best to resist her father: she felt that she would not be able to live without eating at least a piece of meat a day. Sir Roger ended his dinner with a biscuit and a slice of old weathered cheese. Miss Seziger ate some fruits or berries, if they ripened in the garden. While she was eating them, the old man grumbled all the time:

– How much you love tasty things! It’s inherited from your mother. She, too, was a terrible gourmand.

Poor Miss Dorothea always wanted to protect her dead mother, but she didn’t dare. On the evening we are talking about, the old man and his daughter returned to the living room after dinner and started playing picket [3] . This was also repeated every day, and they played the game for exactly one hour.

Dorothea put her cards down and decided to speak:

“Child…” she began.

Sir Roger dropped his spectacles, bent down, looked for them on the floor, finally found them with difficulty and straightened up again. Only now his face was flushed.

— Well, we’ll continue the game, Dorothea. Please start.

“But I need to talk to you about Roger’s daughter,” she said again.

The old man held out his hand, as if to silence her.

“We will play, Dorothea,” he repeated sternly.

But Miss Seziger could not remain silent. Gathering the last drops of courage, she murmured:

— I want to know what you intend to do with her. Will she stay here forever, and will you always be as careless as you are today? Father, I don’t often interfere in your affairs, you know that, but when I saw you, an old man, sitting on the grass (just think — on the grass!) In not too hot weather, I almost went crazy because of fear. We were so surprised…

— Who are we ?

“I wanted to say… I wanted to say,” repeated Miss Dorothea in a trembling voice and very curtly, “that I was surprised.

“Well,” said the old man, “it’s good for you, Dorothea, to be surprised from time to time. You are terribly old; you aged ahead of time. And this is not good.

And suddenly he added in a completely different tone:

— What’s the matter, child?

The change of intonation and the old man’s quick movement startled Dorothea so much that she nearly fell off her chair. Turning around, she saw that the drawing-room door had opened and a small thin figure in a long nightgown had stepped over the threshold and entered the room with short steps. Black hair fell on the girl’s shoulders, her cheeks burned brightly, her dark eyes were wide open and looked with a lively, cheerful look.

“I can’t sleep,” she said.

— Go to bed now, Dorothy.

— I can’t sleep, grandpa, I need to sit on your lap.

And as soon as she uttered these words, she quickly climbed onto the old man’s knees.

“Now I feel really good,” the girl looked into her grandfather’s eyes with a gentle, sly look. “Oh, how I love you, grandfather,” she added. — You know, my heart has opened up, and I can put you in it. I love you so much!

“But, father, if you want…” began Dorothea.

“Sh…” the old man interrupted sternly. “Today I don’t feel like playing piquet. Dorothy, you can’t do that, go to bed.

— I couldn’t sleep, Grandpa. Mom took me in her arms, and dad too. Don’t you want to hold me in your arms?

She clung to her grandfather, paying no attention to Aunt Dorothea. The old maid quietly got up from her chair, walked slowly to the old-fashioned sofa, removed the faded woolen plaid from its back, and, going up to Dorothy, covered it.

“Thank you, auntie,” little Dorothy said and began to make herself comfortable.

“Grandpa,” she continued after a minute, “tell you how deep my dad was buried?

— No, I don’t want to hear about it.

— I saw how my mother was put in a box, the lid was nailed shut. Then they took it away from me. I only had time to kiss her. She was so cold… Grandpa, is everyone cold when they die?

— Let’s not talk about it, Dorothy.

— Why not? You yourself will die someday. After all, you are old, very old. I think you won’t live long.

– Dorothy, how dare you say that! Dorothea intervened.

She was so alarmed that she could not remain silent.

“Let her talk, Dorothea,” said Mr. Roger. — If you want, you can go to your place. I’ll look after her myself.

– I am your girl, am I yours? Dorothy snuggled up to her grandfather. “Just don’t scold Aunt Dorothea, it’s not good. She is kind. I feel sorry for her, and then I don’t like it at all when you frown. Smooth out your forehead.

Poor Aunt Dorothea shot out of the room like a bullet, and little Dorothy threw her arms around the old man’s neck.

“I felt a little sleepy,” the girl’s voice sounded with a feeling of deep satisfaction. — And you know, my grandfather, I love you, how I love you! My heart is opening wider and wider. Now, soon I will put you in it completely. Well, tell me, please, won’t you be nice and comfortable there?

«Please don’t talk nonsense,» said old Sir Roger. His words were harsh, but he delivered them in an affectionate tone. – I love little girls who…

– Which ones? Dorothy asked, straightening up quickly, sitting up and looking at him. What little girls do you like?

— Those who are obedient at the beginning of the day, obedient in the middle of the day, and obedient in the evening.

Dorothy listened with deep attention.

– What do you think it means to obey, Grandpa? she asked after a long silence.

— A little girl should obey her parents and teachers and do whatever they tell her.

– So I must obey you and Aunt Dorothea? she asked.

— You must obey me. Do you hear? the old man remarked.

“Yes, I do,” Dorothy replied.

— Do you understand?

— I understand a little.

– And will you obey?

“N-no,” Dorothy replied.

— Then you are a very bad girl.

“I think so,” Dorothy agreed nonchalantly. “You know, I’m so sleepy, and you have such big, such nice, comfortable hands. Here I lie down, snuggle up to you, close my eyes, fall asleep and in a dream I will see mom and dad.

– You can fall asleep in a minute, but since you came to live with me, you must obey me… Promise me to be obedient.

— Can’t promise.

— Why do you say that?

– Because you are so… so… a little weird. And I don’t always like what you do. So you are not at all kind to Aunt Dorothea. You are nice, I love you, I love you very much, and I always try very hard to do what you like, but I can’t obey you at all

The child’s voice trembled as if she was holding back tears.

— Why can’t you? The old man wrapped her tightly around her and hugged her.

— Because you are not always kind, and then, you know, grandpa, you didn’t love my mom and my dad.

“Well, enough, enough,” said Sir Roger, “I don’t want to talk to you about this. If you are kind and good, I will love you. But I see you’re terribly spoiled. Here in Storm, you will not be spoiled. Aunt Dorothea will take care of it.

– Oh, I can do whatever I want with her! I can wrap it around my finger, like this,” and Dorothy twirled her thumb emphatically.

— Well, my dear, I see that you have a lot to learn. You were brought here to be raised by us, and we’ll see who’s in charge here.

— Well, well, let’s see, — she raised her face, stretched out her plump lips and, pressing them against her grandfather’s faded, wrinkled cheek, whispered again: — I love you, love, love. Oh, how I want to sleep!

At the same moment she fell into a deep sleep.

Old Sesiger was one of the sternest old men in the whole county. “He is hard as a nail,” they said about him.

Sir Roger treated his son cruelly and literally kicked him out of the house without any pity. Only daughter Dorothea loved the old man. The neighbors did not want to get close to him and kept a respectful distance from him.

He never invited anyone to Storm and never went to visit himself, even if he received invitations. The old man also did not allow his daughter to visit. His heart was tightly closed from the whole world. Hearts always close when there is no one to open them.

But now, as he sat in the living room, in that dreary room that no one cared about, in which nothing had changed since the death of Lady Sesiger, who died many years ago, he felt a strange warmth creeping into his soul . This warmth was caused by the closeness of the child, a small, spoiled, rebellious, but kind black-eyed girl who came to live with him completely against his desire and against his will.

One morning, unexpectedly uninvited, she crossed the threshold of a house in Storm and announced to her grandfather in a thin voice that she would live with him. With her came a woman who brought true evidence that Dorothy was the daughter of young Roger and his wife, a woman who, in the opinion of old Sir Seziger, was unworthy to enter his family.

True, he could not say anything about Dorothy’s mother, except that she was of humble origin, that her father lived somewhere on a farm in Yorkshire, that she was beautiful, cheerful, that she had received a good education, became a governess , met Roger in Paris and that he married her. Roger was happy with his wife, and they had a daughter, Dorothy. When they both died, the girl was brought to Storm.

“Let him stay,” Sir Roger decided. “The child is not to blame for anything. Let the girl live with us, Dorothea. Just make sure she doesn’t see me very often.

Miss Sesiger gasped softly with delight when her father allowed her to keep the child. True, the old man spoke in a displeased voice, but he still allowed Dorothy to live in Storm.

On the day when our story begins, a whole week has passed since Dorothy’s arrival in Storm, and during these few days the girl has already become a favorite, a real idol of all the servants. Miss Dorothea looked at her with fear and at the same time with adoration. Anyone who did not tremble in the presence of old Roger seemed to Dorothea an extraordinary person who should at least be looked at with respect.

“What a strange child,” thought the old man. — Really, I can not understand what it is for me? She bores me pretty much, but meanwhile…”

The gentle breath of a sleeping child touched him as he bent down. At that moment the old man noticed that she was very much like her father. Dorothy whispered half asleep:

“Grandpa, I love you… Dear Grandpa…

And suddenly something like an icy crust fell off the old lord’s heart. He got up slowly and, with a barely audible step, carried Dorothy himself into the nursery. Sir Roger put her in her bed, wrapped her warmly in a blanket, then, looking around like a thief, crept downstairs. He did not know that Miss Dorothea was looking at him and that Mary froze in amazement with her hands pressed to her cheeks, standing in a secluded corner and whispering barely audible:0010

– My God, my God! I just can’t believe my eyes!

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