Is my name in the pot?"
"It isn't, Shirley, but it soon will be. How perfectly bully to have
you with me again, my dear! And what a charming young lady you've
grown to be since I saw you last! You're--why, you've been crying! By
Jove, I had no idea you'd be so glad to see me again."
She could not forego a sly little smile at his egoism.
"You're looking perfectly splendid, Uncle Seth," she parried.
"And I'm feeling perfectly splendid. This is a wonderful country,
Shirley, and everything is going nicely with me here. By the way, who
did you say picked you up in his car?"
"Bryce Cardigan. Do you know him?"
"No, we haven't met. Son of old John Cardigan, I dare say. I've heard
of him. He's been away from Sequoia for quite a while, I believe."
"Yes; he was abroad for two years after he was graduated from
Princeton."
"Hum-m-m! Well, it's about time he came home to take care of that
stiff-necked old father of his." He stepped to the bell and pressed
it, and the butler answered. "Set a place at dinner for Miss Shirley,
James," he ordered. "Thelma will show you your rooms, Shirley. I was
just about to sit down to dinner. I'll wait for you."
While Shirley was in the living room Colonel Pennington's features
wore an expression almost pontifical, but when she had gone, the
atmosphere of paternalism and affection which he radiated faded
instantly.
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