"I'm glad I came to Rockwell," said Delight, with happy eyes; "I think you're splendid."
"And I think you're lovely. I hope we'll get along. Do you squabble?"
"I don't think so," replied Delight, doubtfully; "you see, I never had a chance."
"I don't believe you do. I hate it, myself; but lots of the girls think it's fun to get mad at each other, and stay mad a few weeks and then make up."
"How silly! You're not like that, are you?"
"No, I'm not. I had a friend who used to live in this very house, and we never have been mad at each other in our lives. That's why I didn't say I'd be your friend. It seems sort of—kind of—"
"Yes, I see," said Delight, gently. "You're awfully loyal, aren't you?
Well, I'd rather be your sister, anyway,—your play-sister."
"I'll be your step-sister," said Midget, remembering Cinderella. "Not the cross kind."
"No, the pleasant kind. All right, we'll be step-sisters, and will you come to see me often?"
"Yes, and you must come over to my house."