“Oh, you must not say that. You must say, 'I'd love to, Miss Percy.' Only you must say, 'I'd love to, Lorna.' My name is Lorna. I'll call you Lem and you 'll call me Lorna. Will you?”
“I don't care.”
Gay erupted from her chair in a protesting billow of white and seated herself at Lem's other side.
“Now, I'll not stand for this at all, Lorna Percy!” she complained. “You shan't kidnap him all for yourself. I have as much right to him as you have. You'll be my sweetheart, too, won't you, Lem?”
“Yes'm, I guess so.”
“There, you mean thing!” Gay laughed at Lorna. “You see! He's as much mine as he is yours.”
It was pretty play and Lem did not mind it much. He had a boy's deep-grounded belief that all girls were silly, and these were only older girls.
“In this letter Bill says—” said Henrietta Bates.
Gay and Lorna turned their heads.
“Oh, excuse me, Henrietta!” Gay cried. “We are truly just crazy to hear what your Bill says, but having a really, truly sweetheart of our own is such a new experience—”