Crawford, whom she
called grandma, loved him better than any one else. She always ran to
meet him when he came, and sometimes, when he went away, accompanied him
down the lane, holding his hand and asking him numberless questions
about Tracy Park and about his little girl, and why she never came to
see her.
Frank could not tell Jerry of his wife's bitter prejudice against her,
and that this was the reason why Maude had never been to the cottage or
Jerry to the park. But if Jerry had not visited it in person, she was
greatly interested in the handsome house and grounds, and the lovely
rooms where the crazy man lived. This was Harold's designation of Mr.
Arthur--the crazy man--and perhaps of all the things at Tracy Park,
Jerry was most desirous to see him and his rooms. Harold, who, on one of
the rare occasions when Arthur was out to dine, had been sent to the
house on an errand, had gone with Jack into these rooms, which he
described minutely to his grandmother and Jerry, dwelling longest upon
the beautiful picture in the window. 'Gretchen, he calls it,' he said;
and then Jerry, who was listening intently, gave a sudden upward and
sidewise turn to her Lead, just as she had done when Mr. Tracy spoke to
her of Wiesbaden.
'Detchen,' she repeated, with a little hesitancy.
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