"For my part I prefer one
under a buttoned coat," she replied briskly; "but be careful, Mr.
Lightfoot, or you will put notions into the boys' heads. They are at the
age when a man has a fancy a day and gets over it before he knows it."
"They are at the age when I had my fancy for you, Molly," gallantly
retorted the Major, "and I seem to be carrying it with me to my grave."
"It would be a dull wit that would go roving from Aunt Molly," said Champe,
affectionately; "but there aren't many of her kind in the world."
"I never found but one like her," admitted the Major, "and I've seen a good
deal in my day, sir."
The old lady listened with a smile, though she spoke in a severe voice.
"You mustn't let them teach you how to flatter, Mr. Morson," she said
warningly, as she filled the Major's second cup of coffee--"Cupid, Mr.
Morson will have a partridge."
"The man who sits at your table will never question your supremacy, dear
madam," returned Jack Morson, as he helped himself to a bird. "There is
little merit in devotion to such bounty."
"Shall I kick him, grandma?" demanded Dan. "He means that we love you
because you feed us, the sly scamp."
Mrs. Lightfoot shook her head reprovingly. "Oh, I understand you, Mr.
Morson," she said amiably, "and a compliment to my housekeeping never goes
amiss. If a woman has any talent, it will come out upon her table."
"You're right, Molly, you're right," agreed the Major, heartily.
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