"For more than a month," she cried, "and to think that you have never felt it." My action was too much for her gravity, and she fell back against the skylight in a fit of merriment, which threatened to wake her father. And I hoped it would.
"It pleases you to speak in parables this morning," I said.
"Mr. Crocker," she began again, when she had regained her speech, "shall
I tell you of a great misfortune which might happen to a girl?"
"I should be pleased to hear it," I replied courteously.
"That misfortune, then, would be to fall in love with you."
"Happily that is not within the limits of probability," I answered, beginning to be a little amused. "But why?"
"Lightning often strikes where it is least expected," she replied archly. "Listen. If a young woman were unlucky enough to lose her heart to you, she might do everything but tell you, and you would never know it. I scarcely believe you would know it if she did tell you."
I must have jumped unconsciously.
"Oh, you needn't think I am in love with you."
"Not for a minute," I made haste to say.