some of them this morning was my endeavour to explain the nature of the
respect in which gentlemen hold ladies."

"Yes," said Budge; "I know all about it. Only Uncle Harry don't say it
right. What he calls respect _I_ calls _love_."

"Miss Mayton," I said hastily, earnestly, "Budge is a marplot, but he is
a very truthful interpreter, for all that. Whatever my fate may be, do
not----"

"I want to talk some," observed Budge. "You talk all the whole time.
I--when I loves anybody I kisses them." Miss Mayton gave a little start,
and my thoughts followed each other with unimagined rapidity. She was
not angry, evidently. Could it be that----? I bent over her, and acted
on Budge's suggestion. She raised her head slightly, and I saw that
Alice Mayton had surrendered at discretion. Taking her hand, I offered
to the Lord more fervent thanks than He had ever heard from me in
church. Then Budge said, "I wants to kiss you, too." And I saw my
glorious Alice snatch the little scamp into her arms and treat him with
more affection than I had ever imagined was in her nature.

Suddenly two or three ladies came upon the piazza.

"Come, boys!" said I. "Then I'll call with the carriage to-morrow at
three, Miss Mayton. Good-evening."

That night I wrote to my sister to inform her that the scales had fallen
from my eyes--I saw clearly that my nephews were angels. And I begged to
refer her to Alice Mayton for collateral evidence.