Mr. B. (startled). But you don’t think she would do such a thing?
D. (solemnly). It is impossible to say. She is a widow, and you know the race of men has been warned, by an astute observer of human nature, to beware of that class of humanity. If she has any sympathy with the “Woman’s Rights” movement, I’m afraid you’re fated, uncle.
Mr. B. I couldn’t stand that. But what shall I do, Dick? Leave town?
D. There wouldn’t be any use in that, unless you staid away the remainder of the year.
Mr. B. (nervously). I couldn’t do that.
D. Then be courageous and bear it like a man. Of course you’d refuse the honor (questioningly)?
Mr. B. Of course I should. I wouldn’t accept under any consideration.
D. Then that’s all settled. But if you should get into any kind of a scrape, just let me know, and I’ll get you out of it—trust me, uncle.
Mr. B. Well, I think I will. No doubt you know more about those things than I do.
D. (smiling). I dare say I do.