At length I could stand it no longer.
"You don't like me," I once said to him, a little angrily,—"you know you don't; you never kiss me now—you know you never do." And I began to cry.
Cornelius looked almost ludicrously perplexed. He hit his lip; his upraised eyes sought the ceiling; he tapped his foot; he sighed profoundly, then hung down his head, and looked melancholy.
"I wish you would always remain a little girl of thirteen or so," he said ruefully, "it would be a great deal more convenient and comfortable."
I was piqued with the wish, and checked my tears to inform Cornelius I hoped I should not remain a little girl; indeed I was sure of it, and that though he did not care about me at all, he should not prevent me from caring about him. He smiled, but not cheerfully; then he made an effort, and said,—
"Never mind, Daisy, you shall be happy, let it cost what it may; only don't tell Kate."
"What must I not tell her, Cornelius?"
"Never mind; but don't tell her."
"But, Cornelius, I must know in order not to tell."
"You are very inquisitive," was his short answer.