“No more have I. Have you got any playmates?”
“No; never had any.”
“No more have I. But now I have you, and you have me, and we will be playmates, won’t we?”
“Yes, indeed!”
“How old are you, David Lindsay?”
“I am almost twelve; I shall be twelve next Fourth of July.”
“Oh, what a splendid birthday! I shall be eight the first of June!”
“June is a nice month, too. The roses are all out,” said the boy.
The little girl fell into thought for a few minutes, and then she said:
“What made you lift your hat and bend your head when you said ‘Heaven,’ David Lindsay?”