“Shall I try to guess?” said I.
“Oh, no! Don’t! Pray don’t!” cried Ada, very much startled by the idea of my doing so.
“Now, I wonder who it can be about?” said I, pretending to consider.
“It’s about—” said Ada in a whisper. “It’s about—my cousin Richard!”
“Well, my own!” said I, kissing her bright hair, which was all I could see. “And what about him?”
“Oh, Esther, you would never guess!”
It was so pretty to have her clinging to me in that way, hiding her face, and to know that she was not crying in sorrow but in a little glow of joy, and pride, and hope, that I would not help her just yet.
“He says—I know it’s very foolish, we are both so young—but he says,” with a burst of tears, “that he loves me dearly, Esther.”
“Does he indeed?” said I. “I never heard of such a thing! Why, my pet of pets, I could have told you that weeks and weeks ago!”
To see Ada lift up her flushed face in joyful surprise, and hold me round the neck, and laugh, and cry, and blush, was so pleasant!