"Indeed we are not!" returned Percy, tossing his head. "His position is very different from mine."
Uncle Jacob surveyed Percy in innocent wonder.
"Still, he's kin to you," he observed.
"That doesn't always count," said Percy. "He has his friends, and I have mine. I don't believe in mixing classes."
"I expect things have changed since I was a boy," said Uncle Jacob, mildly. "Then, all the boys were friendly and sociable, no matter whether they were rich or poor."
"I agree with Percy," broke in Mrs. Marlowe, stiffly. "His position in life will be very different from that of the boy you refer to. Any early intimacy, even if we encouraged it, could not well be kept up in after-life."
"Perhaps you are right," said the old man. "I've been away so long at the mines that I haven't kept up with the age or the fashions."
Percy smiled, as his glance rested on his uncle's creased suit, and he felt quite ready to agree with what he said.
"I was thinkin' how pleasant it would be if you would invite Mary and her boy to tea—we are all related, you know. We could talk over old times and scenes, and have a real social time."
Mrs. Marlowe seemed horror-struck at the suggestion.