In that meeting, in her rather rude little aggression and Harry's reception of it, was started a friendship. She deliberately tested Harry and found that he came up to the mark. He did not fidget, he did not blush, he did not stammer; he simply returned her stare, waiting for her to find her manners. Nothing he could have done would have pleased her better; she decided she would like him, then and there.
Harry on his side found her conversation, even in the first hour of their acquaintance, stimulating and agreeable, and like nothing that he had experienced before in any young girl of thirteen, English or American.
"You needn't be afraid that we shall ask foolish questions about America," Beatrice went on. "We know the Indians don't run wild in the streets of New York, and all that sort of thing. We even know what part of the country New Haven is in; we looked it up on the map. It's quite near New York, isn't it?"
"Yes," said Harry, "you're quite right; it is. But how do you pronounce the name of the state it is in? Can you tell me that?"
"Connecticut," replied the girl, readily enough; but she sounded the second c, after the manner of most English people. Harry explained her mistake to her, and she took the correction smiling, quite without pique or resentment.
"Now go on and tell us something about the country. Something really important, you know; something we don't know already."
"Well," said Harry, "there seems to be more room there; that's about the most important difference. Except in the largest cities, and there there seems to be less, and that's why they make the buildings so high. And nearly all the houses, except in the middle of the towns, are made of wood."
He went on at some length, the two girls listening attentively.
At last Beatrice interrupted with the question:
"Which do you think you like best, on the whole, England or America?"