"It is your son. This was the first young man who had drawn from her something more than speculative interest. “Aunt!” she said, “I can’t—” Then she caught a wild appeal in her aunt’s blue eye, halted, and the door clicked upon them. All at once he saw a way out of the threatening doldrums. "Excuse me," he said, plunging his fork into a fowl, and transferring it to his plate. She saw nothing of their love-making, and came home from her boarding-school in a state of decently suppressed curiosity for Alice’s wedding. They had got all this down already—they heard the substance of it now for the fourteenth time.
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