“Never give others a thing to do when you can do it yourself,” replied Mr. Burns, drinking off his coffee at a single gulp. “And, by the way, Philip, I want to have a hand in this furnishing of yours.”
Philip broke into a smile. Uncle Robert’s taste was too awful to bear thinking of.
“Thank you, uncle,” he said; “but, you know, I just want to follow my own fancies in this.”
“Of course, of course, Philip! I know I should be of no use in choosing your gimcracks. What I meant was, that I wrote out a check for a hundred pounds for you before I went out. It will help you to have things you fancy.”
Philip’s usually pale face became scarlet with shame.
How he snubbed this uncle, how he allowed himself to be irritated with him and his ways! Yet Uncle Robert never resented it, and was always good-humored and kindly.
This generous gift covered the young man with confusion.
“I don’t deserve your kindness, Uncle Robert,” he broke out impulsively. “I am always surly with you, and you are always kind. I feel ashamed of myself, and I may as well own it. It is a good thing for you I am taking myself off!”
“They say biting and scratching is Scotch folks’ wooing,” laughed Uncle Robert; “and if you do sometimes drop on me like a thousand of bricks, you are fond of your old uncle, all the same, and he knows it! Why, bless my soul! I want taking down a peg or two sometimes. It is good for me!”
“I want taking down a good many pegs!” acknowledged Philip humbly.