Being a very charming young person, Miss Lee could not, of course, be grumpy; yet grumpiness certainly would have been the proper word with which to describe her mood during her last fortnight at Saratoga had she not possessed such extraordinarily fine gray eyes and such an admirably dimpled chin. The fact must be admitted that she contrived to make her uncle’s life so much of a burden to him that his staying powers were strained to the utmost Indeed, he admitted to himself that he could not have held out against such tactics for another week; and he perceived that he had done injustice to his departed sister in thinking--as he certainly had thought, and even had expressed on more than one occasion in writing--that in permitting her European movements to be shaped in accordance with her daughter’s fancies she had exhibited an inexcusable weakness. It was a relief to Mr. Port’s mind, and also to his digestion--for Dorothy’s grumpiness produced an effect distinctly bilious--when the end of July arrived and his own and his charming ward’s views once more were brought into harmony by the move to Narragansett Pier. Fortunately, while somewhat disposed to stand upon her own rights, Miss Lee was not a person who bore malice; a pleasing fact that became manifest on the moment that she began to pack her trunks. “I am afraid, Uncle Hutchinson,” she observed, on the morning that this important step towards departure was taken--“I am afraid that during the past week or so your angel may not have been quite as much of an angel as usual.” “No,” replied Mr. Port, with a colloquial disregard of grammatical construction, and with perhaps unnecessary emphasis, “I don’t think she has.” “But from this moment onward,” Dorothy continued, courteously ignoring her uncle’s not too courteous interpolation, and airily relegating into oblivion the recent past, “she expects to manifest her angelic qualities to an extent that will make her appear unfit for earth. Very possibly she may even grow a pair of wings and fly quite away from you, sir--right up among the clouds, where the other angels are! And how would you like that, Uncle Hutchinson?” In the sincere seclusion of his inner consciousness Mr. Port admitted the thought that if Dorothy had resolved herself into an angelic _vol-au-vent_ (a simile that came naturally to his mind) at any time during the preceding fortnight he probably would have accepted the situation with a commendable equanimity. But what he actually said was that her departure in this aerated fashion would make him profoundly miserable. Mr. Port was a little astonished at himself when he was delivered of this gallant speech; for gallant speeches, as he very well knew, were not at all in his line.