"You're my Mummy, you're my dear,
I love your little dimple right, right here."
Then he threw his arms about her and hugged her.
"Incorrigible!" she murmured, then her eye fell on my young master, who often lingered near her in fascination when she caressed her children.
"What do you think of these noisy cousins of yours, my boy?"
"I love them, Aunt Bretta," he said simply, "and I love you, too. I find you so—so comely."
She got up, and going to him put her arm round him, and kissed him very kindly.
Dallas shut his eyes. "I'm just imagining you are my own mother, Aunt Bretta."
"And I will be," she said earnestly, "until you have a mother of your own. Kiss me night and morning as my own children do, and come to me with all your little troubles."