Uncle Dick dived down into one of his pockets and drew forth a box of candy which he laid on the chair by his side. "I want to see how you are progressing with your studies," he remarked with gravity. "By the way, is school over yet?"
"No, it closes next week," Molly told him, eying the candy.
"Ah, then I must visit it and inquire into your record," said her uncle with an air of dignity.
"Oh, Uncle Dick!" Molly was on pins and needles lest he should really do something of the kind, and if he should hurt the feelings of her dear Miss Isabel whom she adored, Molly did not know what she should do. Miss Isabel might not understand her uncle's joking ways and—oh, dear! Her anxious look made her uncle chuckle with glee.
"I'll go sure as a gun," he declared, seeing a chance to tease.
"Oh, please don't," begged Molly.
"Why not go? Indeed I shall. I am confident from your manner, Miss Shelton, that it really is necessary that I should make some inquiries for the credit of the family. Tell me why I should not go, if you please."
"Why—why—none of the girls' uncles ever do go," said Molly lamely.
"Not a bit of reason why I should not start the custom. What is your teacher like? Old, with little bobbing curls each side her face? Wears a cap, does she? or false frizzes and her teeth click when she talks?"
"She's nothing like that at all," returned Molly indignantly. "She is perfectly lovely with blue eyes and long black lashes, and the beautifullest hair, and she has the prettiest, whitest teeth, like even corn on the cob."