"Perfectly," he answered. "You could not have pleased her better."
"But, Uncle Heath," said Dimple, "I didn't know you knew Mrs. Hardy."
"I knew her long ago, when she wasn't Mrs. Hardy, but Dora West. Long ago," he repeated, gently stroking her hair.
"Why didn't you marry her then?"
"I wanted to," said he, simply, "but I couldn't. Do you want to be bridesmaid, Dimple?"
"Oh, uncle! Could I?"
"Yes, indeed; and Rock groomsman. We are such a young, frivolous couple, we couldn't think of having a grown-up young lady for bridesmaid."
Dimple laughed, and sat in supreme content on her uncle's knee till the breakfast bell rang.
"Florence, I know all about it," she cried, as Florence came in, "and I am going to be bridesmaid, and I know why Uncle Heath is happy, and why Rock can be my cousin. Isn't it lovely?"
Florence looked puzzled, but after a clearer explanation agreed with Dimple that it was "perfectly lovely."