him. And it makes me furious," Margaret Elizabeth continued, "when
I think of his not telling me."

"Telling you that you didn't know him?" asked Uncle Bob.

"Certainly, he should have said at the very beginning, 'Miss Bentley,
you are mistaken in thinking you know me.'"

"Ha! ha!" laughed Uncle Bob.

"Now what are you laughing at?" his niece demanded. "Honestly, don't you
think he should have?" But she laughed herself.

"Well, perhaps," he owned, reflecting, however, that if Margaret
Elizabeth looked half so alluring that morning as she did now in her
grey-blue frock, with her bright hair a bit tumbled, it was asking a
good deal of human nature.

"Now, of course, Uncle Bob, this is strictly confidential. I wouldn't
have Dr. Prue know for the world. It is bad enough to have Aunt Eleanor
smiling sarcastically, though she doesn't know half. I think I have at
length quieted her, and the great Augustus is entirely mollified." She
paused to laugh again, then continued tragically, "Sympathy is what I
need now. To begin with, it was the most perfect day--the sort to make
you forget tiresome conventions."

Uncle Bob nodded. "Perhaps he forgot, too," he suggested.

Margaret Elizabeth bit her lip. "That's true. I must try to be fair.
He had nice eyes, Uncle Bob--with a twinkle in them." A smile played