Uncle Cliff squirmed. Blue Bonnet seemed to have assimilated a rather big dose of Aunt Lucinda. "But, Honey," he protested, "a girl with plenty of money doesn't need a vocation."
"Oh, she didn't mean that kind of a vocation. It's a sort of glorified way of doing your duty by your neighbor. And you know it isn't very easy to do your duty by your neighbor when the nearest neighbor is miles away! Now, Aunt Lucinda is the most all-round useful person. She's helping to keep up a home for cripples in Boston, and is secretary of the Church Aid Society, runs Grandmother's house and—"
"Everybody in it!" added Uncle Cliff.
Blue Bonnet slipped her hand into his with a sympathetic pressure.
"I reckon I caught it from you,—liking to paddle my own canoe, I mean. But, though I don't love discipline, I've learned to appreciate what it can do. Now, look at Solomon—"
"—in all his glory!" laughed Uncle Cliff.
At that moment the subject of the conversation was occupied in gnawing a very dirty bone on the forbidden territory of the veranda.
"Oh, he has his lapses," Blue Bonnet confessed, "—his forgettery is as active as mine. But he's hardly more than a puppy yet, and it's surprising how well he minds. He's getting pretty wild out here. The ranch has that effect I've observed. And that's why—"
"Say, Honey," Uncle Cliff interrupted, "let's allow the subject of going back to rest right where it is until after to-morrow, will you? I want to enjoy my ward's birthday, and I'd rather have a clear sky without any clouds on my horizon."
"That suits me, Uncle Cliff."