That left Uncle John to take his after-dinner nap in the big Morris chair in the living room, where Major Doyle sat smoking-sulkily while he gazed from the window and begrudged the moments Patsy was being kept from him.
Finally the door opened and the three girls trooped out.
"Huh! Is the conspiracy all cut-an'-dried ?" growled the Major.
Uncle John woke up with a final snort, removed the newspaper from his face and sat up.

He smiled benignantly upon his nieces.
"It's all your fault, sor!" declared Major Doyle, selecting the little millionaire as the safest recipient of his displeasure.

"Your foolishness has involved us all in this dreadful complication.

Why on earth couldn't you leave well-enough alone ?" Uncle John received the broadside with tolerant equanimity.
"What's wrong; my dears ?" he enquired, directing his mild glance toward the bevy of young girls.
"I am unaware that anything is wrong, Uncle," replied Louise gravely.
"But since we are about to make our debut in society it is natural we should have many things to discuss that would prove quite uninteresting to men.

Really, Uncle John, this is a great event--perhaps the most important event of our lives." "Shucks an' shoestrings!" grunted the Major.