“You’re not afraid he’s—getting to gambling—or drinking, are you?” Her voice dropped almost to a whisper.
David stared as if he doubted his hearing; then he threw back his head, and laughed.
“Uncle David—gambling! drinking! Oh, Pollee! that’s too funny! oh, my!”
Polly laughed, too, out of sympathy.
“Well, you said,—” she began in excuse.
“I didn’t say anything of that kind—oh, Polly! No, we aren’t worried about Uncle David’s habits.”
“Well, what is it, then? I’m not going to guess any more.”
“I wouldn’t,” giggled David.
“Anyway I’ve made you laugh,” exulted Polly. “You have been as grave as an owl all the evening.”