“Yes,—so I thought. And I said to him, 'I am not to be disposed of quite so easily, I can tell you, Cress.’ And he actually said,—I know you like me well enough, and I mean you to be mine some day. I’ll never give you any peace till you say 'Yes.’”

“And your answer?” I asked.

“I said I wished he wouldn’t be so ridiculous. As if we couldn’t be brothers and sisters all together, without such nonsense! Cherry was not at hand to help me, and Cress kept saying again and again,—'But you like me,—I know you like me,—say you like me, Maimie.’ And I said at last,—’ Yes, of course I like you,—and I like a great many other people too. I should like you much better if you did not tease me like this.’ And he said,—'It isn’t teasing, Maimie. I want you to say that you like me best,—better than anybody,—better than Jack.’”

“What did Jack say?” I asked.

“He said,—'Do you, Maimie?’ in a low voice. And I said,—'No, of course I don’t. I like you all,—Jack and Cress and Owen and all of you.’ I am afraid Jack didn’t like the way I spoke, he turned so white, and looked vexed. But what else could I say?”

“It was the best answer you could make, I dare say,” I said.

“Of course it was, because it was the true one,” Maimie said, with spirit. “Cress went on teasing me, and wanted to know if I was quite sure I liked him exactly in the same way as Jack. I said,—'No, because Jack is my pupil as well as my brother, and I am proud of his spelling.’ And Jack looked graver than ever. And Cress said,—'It doesn’t matter. You’ll never marry anybody but me, Maimie.’ And I said, 'Then I shall not marry at all, for I should never think of marrying you.’ I am afraid I was getting a little angry, for it really was too bad of him. I heard Jack say softly,—'Or me?’ and I wanted not to take any notice, but Cress said, 'You’ll not marry Jack!’ in a sort of threatening tone. And I said,—'I certainly shall not ask your leave, Cress. But I don’t mean to marry you or Jack or anybody. The whole thing is ridiculous. I love Aunt Marion more than anybody else in the world, and I don’t want ever to leave her.’”

“Thank you, Maimie,” I said, and I gave her a kiss; yet my heart was sore for poor Jack.

“Then you don’t think I answered too sharply. It was so provoking of them both. Jack must have been vexed, for he went straight off and left us. And Cress began upon me again, so I ran away in another direction and left him. I lost my way in the grounds, or I should have been here much sooner. I did so want to tell you first, before Cress.”

“I do not suppose Cress will say much to me,” I remarked. “He has behaved like a very foolish boy.”