Think of it. Suppose this uncle of ours had accepted. Suppose he had come to town here and any of our friends had met him. 'This is our guardian, Captain Warren, of Punkin Centre.' 'Please to meet ye,' says Uncle 'Lish. 'How's taters?' Horrors! Say, Caro, you haven't told anyone, Malcolm or his mother, or anyone, have you?""Of course not, Steve. You know I wouldn't.""Well, don't. They needn't know it, now or at any other time.
Graves will probably get himself appointed, and he's respectable if he is an old fogy. We'll worry along till I'm twenty-one, and then--well, then I'll handle our business myself."Evidently there was no question in his mind as to his ability to handle this or any business, no matter how involved. He rose from his chair and yawned.
"It's deadly dull," he complained. "You don't need me, do you, Caro? I believe I'll go out for a while. That is, unless you really care."His sister hesitated before replying. When she spoke, there was disappointment in her tone.
"Why, Steve," she said, "I did hope you might be here when Mr.
Graves came. He will wish to speak of important matters, and it seems to me that both of us should hear what he has to say."Young Warren, who had started for the door, stopped and kicked impatiently at the corners of the rug.
"Oh, WELL!" he observed, "if you want me of course I'll stay. But why doesn't old Graves come, if he is coming. Maybe he's under the weather yet," he added, hopefully. "Perhaps he isn't coming at all to-day. I believe I'll call up Kuhn on the 'phone and find out."He was on his way to the telephone when the doorbell buzzed.
"Gad! there he is now," he exclaimed. "Now I suppose I'll have to stay. We'll hear about dear Uncle 'Lish, won't we? Oh, joy!"But the staid butler, when he entered the library, did not announce the lawyer's name.
"Mrs. Corcoran Dunn and Mr. Malcolm," he said. "Will you see them, Miss Caroline?"The young lady's face lit up.
"Certainly, Edwards," she said. "Show them--Oh, Mrs. Dunn, I'm so glad to see you! It was EVER so good of you to come. And Malcolm."Mrs. M. Corcoran Dunn was tall and, in South Denboro, would have been called "fleshy," in spite of her own and the dressmaker's efforts to conceal the fact. She was elaborately gowned and furred, and something about her creaked when she walked. She rushed into the room, at the butler's heels, and, greeting Caroline with outstretched hands, kissed her effusively on the cheek.
"My dear child," she cried, "how could I stay away? We have spoken of you and Stephen SO often this morning. We know how lonely you must be, and Malcolm and I decided we MUST run in on you after lunch. Didn't we, Malcolm?"Mr. Malcolm Corcoran Dunn, her son, was a blond young man, with a rather indolent manner.
"Sure, Mater!" he said, calmly. "How d'ye do, Caroline? 'Lo, Steve!"The quartette shook hands. Mrs. Dunn sank creakingly into a chair and gazed about the room. Malcolm strolled to the window and looked out. Stephen followed and stood beside him.
"My dear," said Mrs. Dunn, addressing Caroline, "how are you getting on? How are your nerves? Is all the dreadful 'settling'
over?"
"Very nearly, thank goodness."
"That's a mercy. I should certainly have been here yesterday to help you in superintending and arranging and so on, but I was suffering from one of my 'hearts,' and you know what THEY are."Everyone who knew Mrs. Corcoran Dunn was acquainted with her "hearts." The attacks came, so she was accustomed to explain, from an impaired valve, and "some day"--she usually completed the sentence with upturned eyes and a resigned upward wave of the hand.
Her son turned from the window.
"I say, Mother," he explained, wearily, "I do wish you wouldn't speak of your vital organs in the plural. Anyone would imagine you were a sort of freak, like the two-headed boy at the circus. It's positively distressing."Stephen laughed. He admired young Dunn immensely. Mrs. Dunn sighed.
"Don't, Malcolm, dear," she pleaded. "You sound so unfeeling. One not acquainted with your real kindness of heart--""Oh, drop it," interrupted Malcolm. "Let's omit the heart interest.
This isn't a clinic. I say, Steve, how do you like the new flat?
It is a flat, isn't it?"
Stephen turned red. His sister colored and bit her lip. Mrs. Dunn hastened to the rescue.
"Horrors!" she exclaimed. "Malcolm, you really are insufferable.
Flat! Caroline, dear, you mustn't mind him. He will have his joke. Malcolm, apologize."The command was sharp, and her son obeyed it.
"Beg your pardon, Steve," he said. "Yours, too, Caroline. I was only joking. There's a little beast of a bookkeeper down at the office who is forever talking of his 'nice flat in the Bronx.'
It's a standing guy, you know. So far as I can see, these are pretty snug quarters. And attractively arranged, too. Your taste, Caroline, I'm betting."Miss Warren, slightly mollified, bowed assent.
"I thought so," continued Malcolm. "No one but you would have known exactly the right spot for everything. Show us through, won't you?"But Mrs. Dunn had other plans.
"Not now, Malcolm," she put in. "Caroline is tired out, I'm sure.
A little fresh air will do her good. I was going to suggest that you and she and Stephen go for a short ride. Yes, really you must, my dear," she added, turning to the girl beside her. "Our car is at the door, it's not at all a bad afternoon, and the outing will be just what you need.""Thank you, Mrs. Dunn," said Caroline, gratefully. "I should like to. Indeed, I should. But we have been expecting a business call from Mr. Graves, father's lawyer, and--""Oh, come on, Sis!" interrupted Stephen. "I'm dying to get out of this jail. Let old Graves wait, if he comes. We won't be long;and, besides, it's not certain that he is coming to-day. Come on!""I'm afraid I ought not, Steve. Mr. Graves may come, and--and it seems too bad to trouble our friends--""It's not trouble, it's pleasure," urged Mrs. Dunn. "Malcolm will be delighted. It was his idea. Wasn't it?" turning to her son.
