"'But, I never said I cared for you,' said she.
"'Oh, well—you know what I mean—you're my friend, you know, and my only comfort,' said I.
"At this she went off again.
"'Well, then,' said I, 'what are you?'
"She sat and thought.
"'Well,' said she, 'I won't be your friend, for that's too cold; I won't be your sister, for that's too familiar. Let me see—what ought I to be? I can't be your guardian, for I'm too volatile—what, then, can I be? Oh, I see! I'll tell you, Captain Randolph, what I'll be. I'll pretend that I'm your aunt. There, sir.'
"'Well, then,' said I, 'my own dear aunt.'
"'No. That won't do—you are always absurd when you grow affectionate or sentimental. You may call me aunt—but no sentiment.'
"'Well, Aunt Louie.'
"She demurred a little, but finally, I gained my point. After this she gave me some good advice, and I left and came straight to you, to find your room empty."