"Now, Fel Allen," said I, "you don't s'pose you're going to die 'fore I do? I can't live 'thout you! If you die, I'll die too."
"Why, I never said a thing about dying," returned Fel, in surprise.
"Well, you won't never leave me, will you? Say you won't never! Just think of you up in heaven and me down here. I can't bear it!"
"Why, Madge."
"Well, if you should go up to heaven first, Fel, you'd sit there on those steps, with a harp in your hand, and think about me; how I said cross things to you."
"Why, what cross things did ever you say to me, Madge Parlin?"
"There, there," cried I, smiling through my tears, and beginning to dance; "have you forgot? O, that's nice! Why, Fel, I called you a lie-girl."
"O, well, I don't care if you did. I wasn't, was I?"
"And I called you a borrow-girl, too. And I drowned you, and I—I—"
"I wish you'd stop talking about that," said Fel, "or you'll make me cry; for you're just the nicest girl. And who cares if you do scold sometimes? Why, it's just in fun, and I like to hear you."