She did not quite like Jerome to be spoken of in that mildly reminiscent way.

"He's grown up now, you know, Aunt Camilla," said she.
"Yes, my dear, and he is as good a young man as he was a boy, I hear." "Father speaks very highly of him," said Lucina, with a soft tremor and mounting of color, to which her aunt responded sensitively.
People said that Camilla Merritt had never had a lover, but the same wind can strike the same face of the heart.
"I have heard him very highly spoken of," she agreed; and there was a betraying quiver in her voice also.
"We had plum-cake, and tea in the pink cups--don't you remember, Aunt Camilla ?" "So many times we had them--did we not, dear ?" "Yes, but that one time ?" "I fear that I cannot distinguish that time from the others, dear." There was a pause.

Lucina took a few more stitches on her embroidery.
Miss Camilla poised her gold pencil reflectively over her portfolio.
"Aunt Camilla," said Lucina then.
"Well, dear ?" "I have been thinking how pleasant it would be to have another little tea-party, here in the arbor; would you have any objections ?" "My dear Lucina!" cried Miss Camilla, and looked at her niece with gentle delight at the suggestion.
The early situation was not reversed, for Lucina still admired and revered her aunt as the realization of her farthest ideal of ladyhood, but Miss Camilla fully reciprocated.

The pride in her heart for her beautiful niece was stronger than any which she had ever felt for herself.

She pictured Lucina instead of herself to her fancy; she seemed to almost see Lucina's face instead of her own in her looking-glass.