"I think Uncle Cal might have looked a long way and not picked out a
less suitable secretary," said she with spirit.

"Is that what he is? What is a seccertary anyway?" demanded Ted.

"Several things Mr. Kendrick is not."

"Oh, I say, Rob! I can't understand--"

"It is a person who has learned how to be eyes, ears, hands, and brain
for another," defined Roberta.

"Gee! Hasn't Uncle Cal got all those things himself--except eyes?"

"Yes, but anybody who serves him needs them all, too. I don't believe
Mr. Kendrick ever helped anybody before in his life."

"Maybe he has. He's got loads of money, Louis says."

"Oh, money! Anybody can give away money."

"They don't all, I guess," declared Ted, with boyish shrewdness. "Say,
Rob, why wouldn't you ask him to the corn-pop frolic?"

Roberta looked round at him. Drenched violets would have been dull and
colourless beside the living tint of her eyes, the raindrops clinging to
her lashes. "Because he was too busy," she replied, and looked away
again.