The Lady shivered her clothes like a black frost.
"It was advice that I was looking for, not compliments," she said.
"Oh ho!" said Uncle Peter. "I'm infinitely more adept with advice than I am with compliments!"
The Lady looked a little bit surprised. She frowned.
"It's my little boy that I want advice about," she said. "What IS the best thing I can do for him?"
Our Uncle Peter looked at the ceiling. He looked at the rug. He looked at the pictures on the wall. But it seemed to satisfy him most to look at the Lady's face.
"U—m—m," he said. "U—m—mmmm.—That isn't an easy question to answer unless you're willing first to answer a question of mine."
"Ask any question you want to," said the Lady.
"U—m—m," said our Uncle Peter all over again. "U—m—m—Um—m—m—U—m—m. It takes a great deal of patience," said our Uncle Peter, "to bring up a little boy.—Unless every time he's naughty you can say to yourself 'Well, even so—think what a good man his Father grew to be!'——Or every time he's good you're fair enough to admit that 'Even his naughty Father was once as nice as this!'"——All the twinkle went suddenly out of our Uncle Peter's eyes. It left them looking narrow. He made a quick glance at Carol. He made a quick glance at me. He seemed very pleased that we were so busy looking at a map of Bermuda. He stepped a little nearer to the Lady. His voice sounded funny. "Were you—were you very fond of the little boy's Father?" he said.
The Lady's face went blazing like a flame out of her black clothes. It was like a white flame that it went blazing. Her eyes looked screaming.