Uncle B. No, I know it, but you’ve done a great thing for me, just the same. I’m—I’m going to be married.
All (together). Why, Bertram! Oh, Uncle Bertram! Who to? Why, Uncle!
Bert. Glad to hear it, I’m sure, but I don’t see what I had to do with it. I didn’t propose to the lady for you, I’m sure.
Uncle B. That’s just what you did, boy, though you didn’t know it. And she wore the white rose, all right.
Bert. Oh, she did? Well, I don’t know how you came to know of it, but if Eloise wants to marry a man twice her age because he has a little money, she’s welcome, for all me. I—I congratulate you, Uncle Bertram.
Uncle B. Good grit, boy, though it isn’t true, one bit of it.
Bobby. What isn’t? Aren’t you going to be married?
Uncle B. I certainly am, and so is Eloise, I fancy; but not together. I’m to marry Miss Ellen Colwell, my boy.
Mrs. W. Ellen? After all these years?
Bert. Not Eloise? But the rose?