"By the time we had finished tea he understood me better than you do after all these years. I wonder if I shall get to like him better than I like you?"
"I wonder, too." And he really did, with an amount of curiosity that was positively painful.
"Of course," remarked Elisabeth thoughtfully, "I shall always like you, because we have been friends so long, and you are overgrown with the lichen of old memories and associations. But you are not very interesting in the abstract, you see; you are nice and good, but you have not heart enough to be really thrilling."
"Still, even if I had a heart, it is possible I might not always wear it on my sleeve for Miss Elisabeth Farringdon to peck at."
"Oh yes, you would; you couldn't help it. If you tried to hide it I should see through your disguises. I have X rays in my eyes."
"Have you? They must be a great convenience."
"Well, at any rate, they keep me from making mistakes," Elisabeth confessed.
"That is fortunate for you. It is a mistake to make mistakes."
"I remember our Dear Lady at Fox How once saying," continued the girl, "that nothing is so good for keeping women from making mistakes as a sense of humour."
"I wonder if she was right?"