"I shall love being ill, if you don't go away," she said, smiling.
"I sha'n't go away any more, even when you're well."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"You sure you're an honest Injun?"
"Injun of flawless integrity."
"Then I shall be well to-morrow."
And to all appearance she was well two days afterwards. When she came down-stairs she was protesting gayly that she was really quite ill, and must have all an invalid's privileges.
"Is it a bargain?" she stopped half-way down the stair. "If it isn't, I'm going back to bed."