"It is such a trifle," interposed madame, with a charming smile. "And I am not sure but we ought to train little girls to be chary of their kisses. There! I will not see her teased." And the lady, rising, walked slowly away.
"Cecil!" the tone was quietly grave now.
The large eyes filled with tears, but she made no motion to relent.
"Very well," he said. "I shall not kiss my little girl until she has acted like a lady."
Cecil turned to Jane with a swelling heart. But an hour or two afterward the cunning little thing climbed her father's knee, patted his cheek with her soft fingers, parted the brown mustache, and pressed her sweet red lips to his with arch temptation.
He drew back a trifle. "Do you remember what papa said, Cecil? Will you go and kiss madame?"
The lip quivered. There was a long, swelling breath, and the lashes drooped over the slightly flushed cheeks.
"Papa doesn't love me!" she uttered, like a plaint. "He wouldn't want to give away my kisses if he did."
He took the little face in his hands, and said with a traitorous tenderness, "My little darling, I do hate to lose any of your kisses. You see you are punishing me, too, by your refusal. I think you ought to do what is right and what papa bids you."
"But I can't love to kiss her." And there was a great struggle in the little soul.