Cassy looked at Jerry very steadily.
“I think if Jerry were to go away for years and years, I wouldn’t forget how he looked and I would know him anywhere.”
Mrs. Law shook her head.
“I don’t believe you would. Do you think your uncle looks much like the picture of your mother’s little brother Jock, which you have so often seen?”
“Oh, no.” Cassy scanned her uncle’s face wonderingly, and shook her head.
“And the little fat roly-poly girl whom I remember as my sister was very unlike the lady who is your mother,” said John.
“I see,” said Cassy. “I suppose you couldn’t know each other, but I can’t believe yet that I would ever forget Jerry or that I wouldn’t know him a hundred years from now.”
“I think you’d all better eat your dinners,” said Jerry, nothing if not practical, his plate being the only one that was empty.
The others laughed, but there was not much dinner eaten that day by any one, for even Jerry was so excited as to have less appetite than usual.
“To think, Jerry,” Cassy remarked later, “that we have a relation, a real relation, and I’d rather have him than any one else in the whole world. May we call you Uncle John?”