"No." Uncle Julian nodded his head; "sandals cross-gartered, a bathing dress and a sash! I would that I had been one of His Majesty's officers to see you."
"I shall dress up for you some time," affirmed Patsy soothingly, "if you will give me the yellow sandals for my very own."
"Ah," said Uncle Julian, "of that I am not sure. They recall something which makes them precious to me."
The girl clasped her hands delightedly.
"Oh, a story at last," she cried, nestling against him. "I shall not tell a soul. You shall see how I can keep a secret."
"But I shall see still better if I do not tell it you!"
"Oh, how abominable of you, Uncle Julian! And I thought you loved me."
"The yellow sandals remind me of a time when I was young—young as you, and a great deal more foolish!"
"But they are a girl's sandals, Uncle Julian—you said so yourself when you lent them to me."
"Indeed, both of them would hardly cover a man's foot!"