"So it seems," said the other dryly. Reaching around he touched Mary's cheek with the back of his finger. "Not mad at your uncle, are you, little girl?" he asked.
"Don't!" said Josiah, speaking with quick concern. "You're only making her tremble…."
The two stared at each other, slightly frowning. Stanley was the first to catch himself. "I'll see you at the office later," he said, and with a bow at the little figure on Josiah's arm he added with a touch of irony, "Perhaps I had better wait until you're alone!"
He turned and made his way back to the office, his elbows grown restless again.
"A good thing it isn't a boy," he thought, "or he might not like me when he grows up, either. But a girl… Oh, well, as it happens, girls don't count…. And a good thing, too, they don't," he thoughtfully added. "A good thing, too, they don't…."
CHAPTER V
Mary grew, and grew, and grew.
She never outgrew her aversion to Uncle Stanley, though.
One day, when she was in Josiah's office, a young man entered and was warmly greeted by her father. He carried a walking stick, sported a white edging on his waistcoat and had just the least suspicion of perfumery on him—a faint scent that reminded Mary of raspberry jam.
"He smells nice," she thought, missing nothing of this.