He let her climb up and wriggle and finally settle herself as it seemed good to her, but he did not speak; and so they sat in the firelight together, Molly's hand lovingly stroking his black velvet coat. But her talents lay in conversation, not in silence, and she soon broke it.
"You do look beautiful to-night, Uncle Charles."
"Do I?" without elation.
"Do you know, Uncle Charles, Ninny's sister with the wart on her cheek has been to tea? She's in the nursery now. Ninny says she's to have a bite of supper before she goes."
"You don't say so?"
"And we had buttered toast to tea, and she said you were the most splendid gentleman she ever saw."
Charles did not answer. He did not even seem to have heard this interesting tribute to his personal appearance. Molly felt that something must be gravely amiss, and, laying her soft cheek against his, she whispered, confidentially:
"Uncle Charles, are you uncomferable inside?"
There was a long pause.