“It is an unpardonable liberty,” protested Aunt Philomela, unreasonably.
“And you must call me Joe,” he hurried on, “and I must address your niece as Eleanor.”
Barnes himself was a little breathless after that. He found himself studying the damson preserves. Had he looked up he would have found them a good match for Miss Van Patten’s cheeks.
“I see no help for it,” agreed the latter.
“Eleanor,” trembled the aunt.
“Well, is there?” she demanded. “How else can he address me before the servants?”
“He can at least refrain, when the servants are not in the room.”
She dropped two lumps of sugar into Barnes’ cup.
“If you please,” murmured Barnes, “no sugar, Aunt Philomela.”
Aunt Philomela corrected her mistake by adding another lump. Barnes accepted it with a murmur of thanks.