Mr. Pinckney's "Ho-ho," rang forth at this and he leaned forward to say to Mrs. Corner: "She is a most amusing child, this little Jack of yours."
"Don't let her bore you," returned Mrs. Corner.
"Bore me? Faith, madam, I was never so interested in my life." He turned again to Jack.
"Did you ever get into scrapes when you were little?" asked Jack.
"I got into many and many a one, but I had no sister Nan to help me out."
"What did you do then?"
"I wriggled out the best way I could. You needn't look at me in that speculative way. I wasn't so fat as I am now. I was no bigger than you at the same age."
Jack immediately jumped up and clapped her hands upon that part of her person just below her waist line. "Oh," she exclaimed in alarm, "do you suppose I'll ever—I'll ever—look like St. Nick?"
"Never," returned Mr. Pinckney, his laugh ringing out again. "Don't be alarmed; I'm sure that affliction doesn't run in your family."
"Were your scrapes very bad?" asked Jack sitting down again after this assurance.