Missy closed her eyes tight, as if fearing what they might behold in
the flesh. But when she opened them again, Aunt Isabel was only
gazing into the drained flasket with a rueful expression.

Then they went back and got another soda for Uncle Charlie. And poor
Uncle Charlie, unsuspecting, seemed to enjoy it.

During the remainder of that evening Missy was unusually subdued.
She realized, of course, that there were no love-potions nowadays;
that they existed only in the Middle Ages; and that the silver
flasket contained everyday ice-cream soda. And she wasn't sure she
knew exactly what the word "symbol" meant, but she felt that somehow
the ice-cream soda, shared between them, was symbolic of that
famous, fateful drink. She wished acutely that this second episode,
so singularly parallel, hadn't happened.

She was still absorbed in gloomy meditations when Mr. Saunders arose
to go.

"Oh, it's early yet," protested Uncle Charlie--dear, kind, ignorant
Uncle Charlie!

"But I've got to catch the ten-thirty-five," said Mr. Saunders.

"Why can't you stay over till to-morrow night," suggested Aunt
Isabel. She had risen, too, and now put her hand on Mr. Saunders's
sleeve; her face looked quite pleading in the moonlight. "There's to
be a dance in Odd Fellows' Hall."

"I'd certainly love to stay." He even dared to take hold of her hand