But her talents lay in conversation, not in silence, and she soon broke it.
"You do look beautiful to-night, Uncle Charles." "Do I ?" without elation.
"Do you know, Uncle Charles, Ninny's sister with the wart on her cheek has been to tea?
She's in the nursery now.

Ninny says she's to have a bite of supper before she goes." "You don't say so ?" "And we had buttered toast to tea, and she said you were the most splendid gentleman she ever saw." Charles did not answer.

He did not even seem to have heard this interesting tribute to his personal appearance.

Molly felt that something must be gravely amiss, and, laying her soft cheek against his, she whispered, confidentially: "Uncle Charles, are you uncomferable inside ?" There was a long pause.
"Yes, Molly," at last, pressing her to him.
"Is it there ?" said Molly, sympathetically, laying her hand on the front portion of her amber sash.
"No, Molly; I only wish it were." "It's not the little green pears, then," said Molly, with the sigh of experience, "because it's always _just_ there, _always_, with them.

It was again yesterday.