"One might think so," agreed Lynn, laughing. He took keen delight in the regular Wednesday evening comedy. "We make the little cakes for tea," continued Iris, her eyes dancing. "But we never have 'em for tea," Lynn objected, "and I wish you'd quit talking about 'em. It disturbs my peace of mind." "Pig!" exclaimed Iris. They were alone, and her face was dangerously near his. Her rosy lips were twitching in a most provoking way, and, immediately, there were Consequences. She left the print of four firm fingers upon Lynn's cheek, and he rubbed the injured place ruefully. "I don't see why I shouldn't kiss you," he said. "If you haven't learned yet, I'll slap you again." "No, you won't; I'll hold your hands next time." "There isn't going to be any 'next time.' The idea!" "Iris! Please don't go away! Wait a minute--I want to talk to you." "It's too bad it's so one-sided," remarked Iris, with a sidelong glance. "Look here!" "Well, I'm looking, but so much green--the grass--and the shrubbery, you know--and all--it's hard on my eyes." "We're cousins, aren't we?" Iris sat down on the bench beside him, evidently struck by a new idea. "I hadn't thought of it," she said conversationally. "Are we?" "I think we are. Mother is Aunt Peace's nephew, isn't she?" "Not that anybody knows of. A lady nephew is called a niece in East Lancaster." "Oh, well," replied Lynn, colouring, "you know what I mean. Mother is Aunt Peace's niece, isn't she?" "I hear so. A gentleman for whom I have much respect assures me of it." The wicked light in her eyes belied her words, and Lynn wished that he had kissed her twice while he had the opportunity. "It's the truth," he said. "And mother's my mother." "Really?" "So that makes me Aunt Peace's nephew." "Grand-nephew," corrected Iris, with double meaning. "Thank you for the compliment. Perhaps I'm a nephew-once-removed." "I haven't seen any signs of removal," observed Iris, "but I'd love to." "Don't be so frivolous! If I am Aunt Peace's nephew, what relation am I to her daughter?" "Legal daughter," Iris suggested. "Legal daughter is just as good as any other kind of a daughter. That makes me your cousin." "Legal cousin," explained Iris, "but not moral." "It's all the same, even in East Lancaster. I'm your legal cousin-once-removed." "Grand-legal-cousin-once-removed," repeated Iris, parrot-like, with her eyes fixed upon a distant robin. "That's just the same as a plain cousin." "You're plain enough to be a plain cousin," she observed, and the colour deepened upon Lynn's handsome face. "So I'm going to kiss you again." "You're not," she said, with an air of finality. She flew into the house and took refuge beside Mrs. Irving. "Mother," cried Lynn, closely following, "isn't Iris my cousin?" "No, dear; she's no relation at all." "So now!" exclaimed Iris, in triumph. "Grand-legal-cousin-once-removed, you will please make your escape immediately."