"Me." Still looking down.
"Then, we should exchange them," he said wonderingly.
"That would not be to my liking," as she looked up.
"Not?" he asked, turning from his paper and pen.
"No," she said, demurly.
"Ah, Miss Jarney," he said, with despair indicated in his voice, "I have presumed, at times, to wish to be better acquainted with you, since that night; but I have thought it useless."
"Mr. Winthrope, nothing would give me more happiness than to be on good terms with you."
"But I see no possibility of that, except—I believe we ought to be on good terms—that is, friends."
"So do I."
"May I hope—no, I must not—may I hope to see you here again, sometime?" he asked seriously.