"Well--well, I suppose I do. But I think the remark was a very silly
one. That is the way Sam Keith talks."

"Eh? Oh, does he!"

"Yes. Or he would if I would let him. And he does it much better than
you do."

"Well, I like that!"

"I don't. That is why I don't want you to do it. I expect you to be
more sensible. And, besides, I won't have you or anyone making fun of my
uncles' store."

"Making fun of it! I should say not! I have a vivid and most respectful
memory of it, as you ought to know. By the way, you told me your uncles
had sent you their photographs. May I see them?"

Mary brought the photographs from her room. They had been taken by the
photographer at Ostable in compliance with what amounted to an order
on her part, and the results showed two elderly martyrs dressed in
respectable but uncomfortable Sunday clothes and apparently awaiting
execution. On the back of one mournful exhibit was written, "Mary
Augusta from Uncle Shadrach," and on the other, "Uncle Zoeth to Mary
Augusta, with much love."

"Now, don't laugh," commanded Mary, as she handed the photographs to
Crawford. "I know they are funny, but if you laugh I'll never forgive
you. The poor dears had them taken expressly to please me, and I am