OLNEY. 61

“JT am your grandfather, darling,” her new friend said,
softly ; and, transferring her other arm to his neck, the little
girl clung closely to him, patting his face and calling him all
sorts of pet names, cooing over him like some happy little bird.

Very shortly they were all walking down the beach
towards the cottage where Olney’s parents were stopping for
the summer.

Olney’s papa was sitting upon the porch. Seeing the party
approaching, he went to meet them. No greeting passed between
the two men, but each stretched out a hand and clasped the
other’s in a warm grasp.

Olney was so pleased with her new grandpapa that she
could not be induced to leave him, but plied him with ques-
tions, some very embarrassing, and some so funny that the
embarrassment was swallowed up in amusement.

“Tf you are my mamma’s papa, then she must be your
little girl, and she isn’t a little girl at all,” Olney said.

“ But you are my little girl,” he answered.

“ But you said she wunned away.”

“ And didn’t you run away ?” he asked.

That settled it, and Olney was content.

Through the long summer days Olney was her grandpapa’s
constant companion; the good times they had no one can tell.

Looking upon the two laughing merrily one day, Olney’s
father smiled down at his wife, saying, softly, “And a little
child shall lead them.”