"Oh! they are lovely feelings," Elisabeth answered—"too lovely to explain. Everything is a treat if Cousin Anne is there. When she speaks, it's just like music trickling down your back; and when you do something that you don't like to please her, you feel that you do like it."
"Well, you are a rum little thing! I should think nobody ever thought of all the queer things that you think of."
"Oh! I expect everybody does," retorted Elisabeth, who was far too healthy minded to consider herself peculiar. After another pause, she inquired: "Do you like me, Chris?"
"Rather! What a foolish question to ask!" Christopher replied, with a blush, for he was always shy of talking about his feelings; and the more he felt the shyer he became.
But Elisabeth was not shy, and had no sympathy with anybody who was. "How much do you like me?" she continued.
"A lot."
"But I want to know exactly how much."
"Then you can't. Nobody can tell how much they like anybody. You do ask silly questions!"
"Yes; they can. I can tell how much I like everybody," Elisabeth persisted.
"How?"