Tell Dorothea about the birds we saw this afternoon."

During the hour that passed before Claudia came back Dorothea had a
chance that seldom came for uninterrupted conversation, and that her
uncle said little was not noticed for some time. Presently she
looked up,

"I don't believe you've opened your lips since Cousin Claudia went
up-stairs," she said. "I don't wonder you don't know where you went
this afternoon if you didn't see any more than you're hearing now.
You don't know a thing I've been talking about."

Laine raised his head with a start. "Oh yes, I do. You were
saying--saying--"

"I told you so! You didn't even know where you were! You were way
off somewhere." Dorothea's voice was triumphant. "I want to ask you
something, Uncle Winthrop. I won't tell anybody." She settled
herself more comfortably on the stool at his feet, and crossed her
arms on his knees. "Don't you think my Cousin Claudia is nice?"

"Very nice." Laine took out his handkerchief, wiped his glasses, and
held them to the light.

"And don't you think she has a lovely mouth? When she talks I watch
her like I haven't got a bit of sense." Dorothea scanned her uncle's
face critically. "Your eyes are dark; and hers are light, with dark
rims around the seeing part, and she just comes to your shoulder; but
you look so nice together. I hope you feel sorry about the things
you said about her before she came."