"Of course, I care!" she said, "Haven't we always been friends, the best of friends?"
"Yes—you and Aunt Rella have been about all I had," he admitted with a cheerful laugh. "I hope I'll make more friends out yonder. But Viva,"—his hand pressed closer—"is it only—friends?"
She took fright at once and drew away from him. "You mustn't do that, Morton!"
"Do what?" A shaft of moonlight shone on his teasing face. "What am I doing?" he said.
It is difficult—it is well nigh impossible—for a girl to put a name to certain small cuddlings not in themselves terrifying, nor even unpleasant, but which she obscurely feels to be wrong.
Viva flushed and was silent—he could see the rich color flood her face.
"Come now—don't be hard on a fellow!" he urged. "I shan't see you again in ever so long. You'll forget all about me before a year's over."
She shook her head, still silent.
"Won't you speak to me—Viva?"
"I wish——" She could not find the words she wanted. "Oh, I wish you—wouldn't!"