Her ingenuity was endless, and she kept them
laughing over her ridiculous fines, until nearly all had been
redeemed.
"Only two or three more," said Jean encouragingly. "Here's one of
them, now."
"Fine or superfine?"
"Fine."
"Fine? Let's see, I know whose 'tis," meditated Jessie. "Oh, I
haven't any ideas left! Let him.
"'Bow to the wittiest,
Kneel to the prettiest,
And kiss the one he loves best.'"
Like most sensible mothers, Mrs. Adams had a horror of anything
like kissing games; and now she frowned a little, in spite of
herself. No one of the V, she felt sure, would have pronounced
this fine. She turned to glance at Alan who stood for a moment,
blushing as his eye moved over the group. Then he walked up to
Polly and bowed low, passed on to Katharine's chair where he
dropped on one knee, and then, walking straight to Mrs. Adams, he
bent down and kissed her cheek with a heartiness which was not all
play. She put out her hand and drew him down on the sofa, at her
side.
"Thank you, dear," she whispered. "It was a pretty compliment, and
we old people enjoy such things, you may be sure."
"It was true," said Alan simply, as he settled himself beside her
with a confiding, little-boyish motion.
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