"It wasn't a blow," said the Boy, tenderly. "It was a kiss. Every time I looked at your dear beautiful hand, lifting the silver teapot, I kissed it. Didn't you feel it was a kiss?"
"No; I only felt it was unusual; something I could not understand; and I did not like it. Therefore I said 'Don't.'"
"But you admit it was sweet?" persisted the Boy.
"Exactly," replied the Aunt; "quite incomprehensibly sweet. And I do not like things I cannot comprehend; especially with amazing boys about!"
"Didn't you know it was love?" asked the Boy, softly.
"No," replied the Aunt, emphatically; "most certainly, I did not."
The Boy got up, and came and knelt beside the arm of her chair.
"It was love," he said, his lips very close to the soft waves of her hair.
"Go back to your seat at once," said the Aunt, sternly.
The Boy went.