Don't you remember I asked you please to
like her, and you didn't seem to think you would. But you do, don't
you? I won't tell anybody. Don't you like her, Uncle Winthrop?"
"I like her very much, Dorothea." Into Laine's clear-cut face the
color crept to his temples, "She is very different from any one
I've--"
"I knew you would." Dorothea's hands came together excitedly. "I
knew it the minute I saw her, for she isn't a bit frilly, and you
don't like frills any more than I do, and she doesn't, either. She's
sees through people like they were glass, and she tells us the
grandest, shiveringest, funniest stories you ever heard. I bet she's
telling Channing one this minute. She loves children. I'm so glad
you like her, Uncle Winthrop. I knew you would if you saw her, but I
didn't know you'd see her so much."
"How could I help it if I saw her once? The trouble has been to get
her to see me. Perhaps she thinks I am too old to--"
"Oh, she knows you aren't the sweetheart kind--Miss Robin French told
her so, and mother and everybody says you are too set in your ways to
get married, and that's why I think she likes you, because you aren't
that sort. She hates flum talk, and you talk sense and things. She
told father so. Here she is now. Please stay with Uncle Winthrop,
Cousin Claudia, while I ask mother if I may take dinner with you.
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