Marcia thought the greatest happiness was to be left alone. If anybody was around they kept you from thinking or reading or else made fun of your diary or whipped you or scolded you about something. Lena wanted everything other girls wanted, whether she really liked it or not, and since these were all tangible objects costing money, Lena was unhappy a good deal of the time. Florrie’s happiness consisted in having people love her and fondle her and refrain from unkind words about anybody. There were definite barometers for people’s happiness, too. You could tell Aunt Lois’s by the sudden richness of her laugh, and the way her blond curls kinked up of their own accord. You could tell Grandma’s by the way she smiled secretly to herself over her mending, moving her lips and nodding complacently as if at her age she knew better than to have her pleasure spoiled by telling it to some jealous confidante. You could tell Papa’s by the cocky set of his hat and by his walk.

It was evident that Papa was pretty happy about something that summer of 1911 because his stiff straw hat sat snappily on the side of his wavy brown hair or else tilted itself merrily over one eyebrow. His hat was as sensitive to the master’s temper as Aunt Lois’s hair was to hers; it seemed to rejoice all of itself in a happy secret, rearing itself up at the slightest touch of the hand, never sedately straight as in his somber moods. Papa’s shoes, too, seemed to dance along by themselves, and in these happy moments his footsteps coming down the sidewalk sounded like a tap dance. He had a traveling job again for the Cleveland Excelsior Cement Company, working for a Mr. Balzer who, he declared, was just about the biggest man in the cement business, as well as a hell of a fine man. Give him a German any day, he said, in preference to these Bohemian novelty men; he’d said it before, and he’d say it again: the cement business, when managed by a superior fellow like Oscar Balzer, was about the most exclusive and up-and-coming business a man could get into. He visited his daughters every three or four weeks on his London Junction trip, and usually brought them a box of Chandler & Rudd salted almonds, or peppermint candy hearts, or joke books. He almost pacified Aunt Lois’s prejudices by presenting her with a box of Mama’s jewelry, including the fleur-de-lis watch and pin, and the garnet pin and her garnet earrings. They both cried over this, and said how pleased Daisy would be at his disposal of her jewels. Aunt Lois said it was about the sweetest thing Harry had ever done.

“You’ll find out the kind of man I am one of these days, Lois,” Papa said, wiping his eyes. “I’ll betcha anything Daisy knows how I try just as well as if she was alive. You’ve always criticized but you’ll find out I’m always looking for some way to do what Daisy would want of me, and that’s all I ask. Well, by George, I think I’ve got a chance right now to please Daisy and when I do it you can bet your sweet life Daisy up there is going to be tickled to death.”