“It has not gone as far as that,” he confessed.
“Well, nephew,” she said, brusquely, “are you in love with the lady?”
“I thought I was—”
Aunt Letitia sniffed, and flicked her fan.
“Dear little love-bird,” she rasped, ironically; “let me warn you, Richard, before it is too late, that unless this pretty romance is locked in the lumber-room you will have that bully of a Lot raging round here about his sister’s honor.”
Richard straightened up stiffly in his chair and stared at his aunt in melancholy astonishment.
“I have done nothing to compromise Miss Jilian,” he said.
“Nothing!” and the old lady cackled.
“On my honor, Aunt Letitia.”
“Dear lad, how innocent you are! Your virginity is better than a sermon. A pity Miss Jilian Hardacre cannot say the same about her sweet person. Well, Richard, if you take an old woman’s advice, you will break with the lady, delicately, gently, mind you. Miss Jilian is a tender young thing, and must be handled with discretion.”