ROLLO’S EVENING WITH
UNCLE GEORGE
IN WHICH OUR HERO UNDER THE TUTELAGE OF AN EXPERT, BECOMES A BOY-ABOUT-TOWN
One cool morning in the early autumn, Rollo was sitting on the red velvet hassock which his mother had given him for his birthday, his chin resting on the sill of the window which faced toward Park Avenue. Below was a pleasant picture of green spaces and cheerful nursemaids attentively watching the tall constable on the corner, while their little charges darted nimbly amid the passing automobiles whose black tops glittered like the backs of large beetles. This was a scene which Rollo had often contemplated with much satisfaction, but to-day he found no pleasure in it whatsoever. Suddenly he heard a light step behind him and turning perceived that Jonas had entered the room, silently, as was his custom.
“Jonas,” said Rollo, crossly, “I wish you would not steal up behind me as you do. Since we have moved to the city and you have become my mother’s social secretary, instead of the hired man, you wear shoes which do not warn me of your approach by their squeaking. It is not right to spy so.”
Now this was very rude of Rollo, and it may be plainly seen that he was in an ill-humour, but Jonas only smiled pleasantly, which made Rollo more angry than ever.
“You are mistaken, Rollo,” said Jonas. “I was not spying upon you. In fact, quite the contrary, it was expressly to see you and deliver a message that I came into the room.”
“A message!” cried Rollo, “and from whom, pray?”
“From your Uncle George,” answered Jonas. “He wishes to know if you could dine with him to-night and go to the theatre.”
Rollo’s face lighted up with pleasure, but he replied seriously, “To-night? Let me see; to-day is Thursday, is it not? I do not think I have any engagement for this evening.”