"Oh, nothing much. Only, he said something—I didn't quite understand. And I wouldn't let him go on. It didn't seem fair; and I told him so. He has always been your friend."
"You don't suppose I want to shut him up in a box for my own use! Was it that you were crying about?"
"I wasn't crying—really. Only—I was afraid I had hurt him—and I couldn't bear—"
"Don't cry now. There's no need. You like Ned?"
"Why—everybody likes him."
"Well, you've got to get it into your head that there is no question of unfairness, or of Ned belonging to me. He is free to choose for himself. And if he chooses to go after you, don't run away. Unless you really want to drive him off, and to make him miserable. Do you?"
Merryl shook her head.
"Then it is all right. Don't you suppose I want my old friend to be happy? So when he comes back in a few minutes—you had better go with him."
"Magda, you are a dear!" murmured Merryl, clinging to her.
THE END.