"But my father didn't use to kiss her."
"Oh, I dare say—"
"No, Aunt Valeria; I should think he never did."
"Perhaps not, then," she said, humoring him.
"Do you think," he began, in a half-whisper—"do you think when she takes me up to bed she'll—she'll—"
"I don't know, but I'll take you myself, if you'd like that better."
"Oh, I would, Aunt Valeria."
"Very well, then. Come, we'll go down-stairs and say good-night."
He slipped his hand in hers.