a line of reasoning that struck a responsive chord.
"But Polly would never consent."
"That's the beauty of it! She's safely out of the way."
"And Mrs. Daymond,—she would be shocked, I am sure," and his fine color faded with consternation.
"Not if she never knows it!"
"But I shall know it," he protested, faintly. Then, gathering himself together for a last effort: "No, Polly, I can never consent. Never! You understand! It's useless to talk about it!" and the Colonel got upon his feet and stepped out upon the balcony, breathing fire and slaughter to all revolutionary schemes. And then Polly knew that she had won the day. When Uncle Dan grew emphatic and peremptory it was a sure sign that he was weakening.
She followed him out upon the balcony, and slipped her hand within his arm.
"O, Uncle Dan," she said, in her most insinuating tone. "You haven't the
