"I begin to see a look of Pat about you." He came down the steps now and took her hand. "Let's sit here and get acquainted," he said, leading the way to the bench under the birch tree.
Two pairs of eyes, the brown and the gray, looked into each other steadily and soberly for a few seconds, then a dimple began to make itself visible in Rosalind's check, whereat the brown eyes twinkled again. "Well, what do you think of me?" they asked.
"You aren't much like Great-uncle Allan," said Rosalind, laughing.
"Heavens! was that your idea of me? And I expected you to be a child of tender age, although I should have known better. It is nearly fourteen years since Pat went away."
"Uncle Allan, did you know my mother?" It was the first time Rosalind had mentioned her mother since she had been in Friendship. She could not have explained her silence any more than she could this sudden question.
"I did not know her, Rosalind. I wish I might have. I saw her once, and I have never forgotten her face."
"I can remember her just a little, but father and Cousin Louis have told me about her, and I have her picture."
"I think," said Uncle Allan, confidently, "that we are going to be friends. Tell me how you like Friendship."
"I like it now. I was dreadfully lonely at first, till things began to happen. Then there was Cousin Betty's tea party, where I met Belle and Jack and the rest, and now—oh, I like it very much! It is a funny place. Aunt Genevieve says you don't like it any better than she does." Rosalind's tone was questioning.
"I believe it does seem rather a stupid old town," he acknowledged. "What do you find interesting about it?"