" In spite of herself, and to her
disgust, a tremor came into her voice and a rush of tears to her eyes.
Her uncle was smitten with dismay. Only on one terrible occasion since
she had emerged from her teens had he seen his niece in tears. The
memory of that terrible day swept over his soul. Something desperate
was doing. Hard as the little man was to the world against which he had
fought his way to his present position of distinction, to his niece
he was soft-hearted as a mother. "There, there!" he exclaimed hastily.
"We'll give the boy a chance. No mother, eh? And a confounded prig for a
father! No wonder the boy goes all wrong!" Then with a sudden vehemence
he cried, striking one hand into the other, "No, by--! that is, we
will certainly give the lad the benefit of the doubt. Cheer up, lassie!
You've no need to look ashamed," for his niece was wiping her eyes
in manifest disgust; "indeed," he said, with a heavy attempt at
playfulness, "you are a most excellent diplomat."
"Diplomat, Uncle!" cried the girl, vehement indignation in her voice and
face. "Diplomat!" she cried again. "You don't mean that I've not been
quite sincere?"
"No, no, no; not in the least, my dear! But that you have put your case
with admirable force."
"Oh," said the girl with a breath of relief, "I just put it as I feel
it.
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