Eloise jumped up, slipping her arm into mine. Then she two-stepped with me up the hall, humming "A Hot Time In The Old Town To-night."
Aunt Lucretia looked on, her stern face relaxed into a satisfied smile.
I slipped my arm around Eloise's slim waist, and, bending over, tried to kiss her cheek. But she drew back laughing, and Aunt Lucretia's voice came sternly from behind. "Jack—Eloise!"
We stopped instantly under the chandelier. Aunt Lucretia shut the heavy doors, and came up with all the sternness of a Roman lictor in her face.
"Turn her loose, Jack. Listen, both of you: I had intended to inform you to-morrow finally, but this is as good a time as any."
We stood silent before her. Eloise's pretty mouth drooped in pretended humbleness.
"You know how I love you both, and—well, how you respect each other. You know that I have planned and dreamed for you both, ever since I brought you together here. Now let me see. This is April—well, I am going to marry you to each other in the fall, and until I marry you off," she went on sternly, "I have only one rule—no hugging—no kissing. It is bad before marriage, and after you are married," she added with becoming stiffness, "you will not want to."
"Don't you think your conditions are awfully severe for engaged people?" asked Eloise demurely.
"And I may seal it with a kiss surely, Aunt Lucretia," I said, "for once."
"No, not for once. That silly performance has caused more trouble in the world than all the sins of Satan combined. We will never have a decent race of people till kissing is cut out," she exclaimed. "There, no more at present—march!"