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But this gift from Neil, her cousin, she surely might keep,
for her father said so, and, young-girl-like, she was admiring herself,
or rather the hat, before the glass, when Neil himself came in.
"Hallo, Dot," he said, coming quickly to her side. "At it, I see, like
the rest of your kind; but don't it become you, though! Why, you are
sweet and fresh this morning as a rose from the old Stoneleigh garden,"
and the tall young man stooped and kissed the blushing girl two or three
times before she could withdraw herself from him. "Why, Bess," he
continued, "what a lump of dignity you are this morning! You did not
used to wriggle so when I kissed you. What has happened?"
"Nothing has happened," Bessie replied, though she knew very well there
had, for what Jack Trevellian had told her that rumor said of Neil and
Blanche had opened a new channel of thought, and made her older far than
she was before; too old for Neil to be kissing her as if she were a
child.
And then, if what Jack said was true, he had no right to kiss her, even
if she were his cousin.


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