"But you believe that I love you, and that you must always come first among all my girl friends, you do believe it?"
"Yes, I do now."
"And you are satisfied?"
"Yes, oh, yes. Kiss me, Janet; you never do, you know."
Janet put her arms around her and kissed the trembling lips again and again, the tears standing in her own eyes. "We are going to see each other again in a month, remember," she said, "and Ted, let me tell you something; I'd rather have you for my sister than any girl under the sun. I think—I hope some day you will be. Do you hope so, too, Ted?"
Teddy did not answer, but buried her face on Janet's shoulder. "Stuart never liked a girl so well as he does you," Janet went on, "and when he has finished his medical course, why then, Ted—"
"Don't say any more," pleaded Teddy in muffled tones, "or I shall cry again."
"There's something else I want to tell you," Janet continued. "Not another soul knows it. Ted, I don't think this is the last time we shall be together in this old town, for Ted—"
Teddy lifted up her head. "Janet, I believe I can guess; it is Mark, the perfect man."
Janet nodded, then said hastily: "Oh, not yet. Some day, two or three years from now, maybe. He—he told me this evening. I didn't suppose," she continued half to herself, "that was what he meant by its being encouraging."