“ ‘My dear preserver!’ exclaimed the young lady. ‘My dear, kind, brave preserver!’

“ ‘Don’t,’ said my uncle, interrupting her.

“ ‘ “Why?” inquired the young lady.

“ ‘Because your mouth looks so beautiful when you speak,’ rejoined my uncle, ‘that I’m afraid I shall be rude enough to kiss it.’

“The young lady put up her hand as if to caution my uncle not to do so, and said⁠—No, she didn’t say anything⁠—she smiled. When you are looking at a pair of the most delicious lips in the world, and see them gently break into a roguish smile⁠—if you are very near them, and nobody else by⁠—you cannot better testify your admiration of their beautiful form and colour than by kissing them at once. My uncle did so, and I honour him for it.

“ ‘Hark!’ cried the young lady, starting. ‘The noise of wheels, and horses!’