"With your permission, I should like to kiss my cousin," said Claude-Edmond suddenly, indicating his infant relative.
"I have the same desire myself," returned Horatia, and Martha, coming to a stand, offered her charge for inspection.
"Did I once have only two teeth—only one tooth?" inquired Charles-Edmond.
"No teeth at all, once," responded his aunt.
Claude felt his existing dental arrangements. "There is one loose now," he announced. "May I pull it out?"
"Let me see," said Horatia; and, after inspection, "I should wait a little if I were you, Claude. It will be looser yet. Besides, it will hurt."
"I know," said the child. "But one must learn to bear pain, must one not?"
"I wish you were not such a little prig," thought Horatia, and instantly repented of the thought. "Yes," she said gently, "but we need not inflict it on ourselves unnecessarily. Give Maurice to me for a little, Martha. Claude, could you fetch my chair over here?"
Delightedly the boy sped off. That his aunt should give him something to do for her was the summit of his desires. When Horatia sat down he stood by her, studying Maurice, who, sucking his fist, in his turn studied the sky.
"He does not remind me greatly of Uncle Armand," observed his cousin. "His face is ... is..." He paused for a word.