"Oh, uncle Dick, certainly Sir Barry knows what he is about. I had not the slightest doubt, nor have I now, as far as the likeness goes. And—and—why he will fix it up all right." Pretty, stately Blondine sinks in her low chair of plush and satin, with an air of perfect faith in Sir Barry's mode of unveiling this little mystery, which has caused so much excitement among those three persons. The Major gently rubs one slippered foot over the other, and watches Blondine thread her needle with yellow floss. It is very evident he has something to say, that he finds rather difficult to express.
"My dear," he says, toying with his spectacle case, "I had the papers drawn up this afternoon, and the architect engaged, and they intend commencing work on the new house immediately."
Blondine lays down her fancy work, and looks at Major Gray.
"Where?" she asks.
"I have Traleigh's word for it, that the place you spoke of could not answer better."
"You dear, you gem of a man, I knew you would change your mind and do as I asked you to."
"There, there, my dear, that will do," gasps uncle Dick, as two fond arms are twisted about his neck.
"Get me my shoes, my dear; I have to go to see a man about, about—ah, some business," the Major declares.
Blondine runs up-stairs, singing, to get a letter for uncle Dick to put in the post-office for—well, perhaps it would do no one any good to know to whom that dainty little letter was addressed.