"Puck," said Lady Benyon, "you're a character."
"There are good characters and there are bad characters," Uncle James moralised.
"Arrah, thin, it isn't a bad character you'd be afther givin' your own niece," Beth blarneyed; and then she turned up her naughty eyes to the ceiling and chanted softly: "What will Jimmie-wimmie give his duckie-dearie to be good? A nice—sweet—kiss!"
Uncle James's big white face became suddenly empurpled.
"Gracious! he's swallowed wrong," Lady Benyon exclaimed in alarm. "Drink something. You really should be careful, a great fat man like you."
Uncle James coughed hard behind his handkerchief, then began to recover himself. Beth's eyes were fixed on his face. Her chaunt had been a sudden inspiration, and its effect upon the huge man had somewhat startled her; but clearly Uncle James was afraid she was going to tell.
"How funny!" she ejaculated.
Uncle James gasped again.
"What is the matter, Puck?" Lady Benyon asked.
"Oh, I was just thinking—thinking I would ask Uncle James to give Mildred some chicken."