"I do not know how it is," said Lucy, when after a short silence, they prepared to return to the house, "but I feel you to be quite a friend already. I must love you, whether you will let me or not."
"I shall be very glad to have you love me," said Mabel, gently; "but wait till you know me better."
"I can never wait and deliberate, when loving is the question," said Lucy; "it is like me; I am always quick in my likes and dislikes—and I feel now as if I could tell you every secret of my heart—I am only nineteen, so such want of consideration is pardonable—is it not, dear Mabel?"
"It is not quite safe, perhaps," replied Mabel; "but yet rather easy to forgive, in the present—instance—at least, when I feel myself to be concerned. But if you make me your friend, you must give me the power of an elder sister."
"Not like Caroline," said Lucy, with a look of pretended terror.
"I shall not let you find fault with Caroline," said Mabel, "that is my first effort of authority; but you have chosen to love me, and you must take my friendship on my own terms."
"Well, I think I will take it on any terms. I dare say it will be worth having," said Lucy; "but first, you must seal our friendship with a kiss, and tell me that you love me as much as I do you."
"My love is of slower growth," replied Mabel, smiling; "but I promise to deal with you as if I loved you. Will that do?"
"I suppose it must," said Lucy.
"You are right," said Mabel, kissing her pouting lips, "that must do till we know each other better."