II + 

The First Kiss + 

Why wouldn’t she? It was now two years since she had consented to be kissed, or, as may perhaps have been the case, had been kissed without her consent by the Rev. Abraham Dribble. Mr. Dribble had been a Low-Church scoundrel. He had kissed and had left the parish, having sneaked himself into the good graces of a bishop. Mary soon knew the nature of the man, but the kiss was still there and hallowed. “Never, never, never, never!” It was her daily language as Johnny Thomas sat with his arm around her waist when his office hours were over. + 

“Surely you love him,” said her aunt, in confidence, while they were preparing together a Saturday pie for the lodgers. + 

“Shall there be two loves?” asked Mary. “Certainly,” said Mrs. Johnson, practically, “if the first fails, or maybe three⁠—as circumstances may require.” + 

“Never, never, never, never!” said Mary Tomkins. + 