Kathie bethought herself. "I suppose it ought not to have been, but it was very dull."
"Are you sorry that you did it?"
"Why, no,"—in a tone of faint surprise. "And yet she did not seem very much obliged to me. Not that I cared so much for the thanks,"—rather hastily.
"I was glad to see you willing to give up that much of your pleasure. Miss Weston is peculiar, but she was very ready to help everybody all the afternoon, and had her pins, scissors, strings, tacks, and hammer always ready. She did a great deal of work."
"But what a pity she cannot be—"
"Well," said Uncle Robert, filling the long pause.
"A little more gracious, I believe I was going to say, or not quite so 'queer.'"
"It is unfortunate, when Miss Weston is so good-hearted in the main. But then she always talks about the trouble she has taken, the hard work she has done, and really dims the grace of her kind deeds."
"I came very near doing it myself," admitted Kathie, quite soberly.