“Kitty, you don’t care for me?”
“I do care for you, Jan.”
“Then love me—take me. Sister Sue will be so pleased.”
“I cannot do it, Jan, even for sister Sue.”
“You cannot love me?” he gasped, and his face lost its colour. “Oh, Kitty, since we were in the boat together I have thought only of you.”
“And before that, of Rose. Was it not so?”
“No, Kitty. Rose rather teased me.”
“Jan, you are a dear, good old fellow, and I like you better than any—I mean, almost better than anyone else in the world.”
“Whom do you like better?” he inquired in a tone between sulk and anger.
“My dear father, of course.”