"Dear uncle, how well you're looking."
Mr. Holman shook his head, as if to remove it from the reach of her embrace.
"Don't touch me."
"And what a nice, kind look you've got in your eyes."
"Hetty, I'm ashamed of you."
"Oh, no, you're not. You're not half such a goose as you pretend to be."
"I tell you that I am."
"You're what? A goose. Dear uncle, I would never let any one call you a goose except yourself. Won't you kiss me?"
The fair young face stooped down. The man's weather-beaten face looked up. The lips met.
The kiss was interrupted by a series of exclamations which came from the back of the room. So unexpected and so startling a series of exclamations that Mr. Holman rose from his chair with such suddenness as almost to overturn his niece.