"Yes, I do," replied Agnes, with the sudden bluntness of sincerity; "but I think I shall plague you sometimes, aunt Betsy."
"You have made up your mind to that already, have you?" returned Miss Compton, delighted at the playful tone in which she spoke; "then, in that case, I must make up my mind too, and contrive to make a pleasure of what you call a plague. How do you mean to begin, Agnes?... What will you do first?... Will you cry for the moon?"
"Will you try to get it for me if I do, aunt Betsy?" said Agnes, laughing.
"Yes, I will ... that is, if you will let me know what sort of moon it is, and to what part of the heavens I must turn to find it. Jupiter, you know, has...."
"Oh! my moon is the highest and brightest of them all!..." said Agnes, with a sigh; and, after remaining silent for a moment, she added, ... "Aunt Betsy, may I tell you everything that has happened to me?"
"If you love me well enough to do this, my child," said the delighted old lady, while, nevertheless, a tear glistened in her clear black eye,—"if you love me well enough, I shall feel that I have not given up my bees and my flowers for nothing."
Agnes drew nearer, and, after a moment's hesitation, began.
"I believe that all young ladies' histories have something about a gentleman in them, and so has mine...."
"A young gentleman, I hope, Agnes?" interrupted the aunt, with a smile.
Agnes coloured a little, but replied, "He is not so very young, aunt Betsy, as to make his youth his most remarkable quality."