"That would be nice," said the girl thoughtfully. "I should like that part, but I think I would like it better without being married. There are father and Friend Ruth looking for us. Let us hurry."
"But you have not told me whether you will let me be your friend," he said, detaining her under a great elm tree, and looking off toward the river, as if he were still watching the steamer. "If you will let me be your friend, I will get permission to come and see you now and then, and I will bring you a box of sweets. You will like that, won't you? All girls are fond of sweets."
"I don't know," answered Dawn slowly, looking at him with troubled eyes, and wondering why it was that his eyes reminded her of a fish.
"The other girls would like the sweets," he suggested.
"Could I give them away?" she asked with a flash of interest.
"You may do anything you like with them," he responded eagerly. "So it is all settled, then, and I may be your friend?"
"I don't know," said Dawn again. "I suppose it will have to be as father and Friend Ruth say."
"No need to consult them in the matter. Leave that to me. All I want is your consent. Remember I am going to visit you next month and bring you something nice."
But by this time the others had reached them.
"Charming view, Mr. Van Rensselaer. I had no idea you could see New York so plainly from this point," said the young man.