“How do you do, uncle—uncle——?” she turned to Clementina.
“Ephraim,” she prompted.
“Uncle Ephraim.”
“No wonder the poor innocent doesn’t remember such a name,” said Clementina.
He bent and solemnly wagged the soft hand for some time; then, not knowing what to do with it, he let it go.
“Do you know Bimbo?”
“No,” said Quixtus.
“Bimbo—patte.”
The mongrel lifted his paw.
“You must shake hands with him and then you will know him,” she said seriously.