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We made merry about Dora’s wanting to be liked, and
Dora said I was a goose, and she didn’t like me at any rate,
and the short evening flew away on gossamer-wings. The
time was at hand when the coach was to call for us. I was
standing alone before the fire, when Dora came stealing
softly in, to give me that usual precious little kiss before I
went.
‘Don’t you think, if I had had her for a friend a long time
ago, Doady,’ said Dora, her bright eyes shining very bright-
ly, and her little right hand idly busying itself with one of
the buttons of my coat, ‘I might have been more clever per-
haps?’
‘My love!’ said I, ‘what nonsense!’
‘Do you think it is nonsense?’ returned Dora, without
looking at me. ‘Are you sure it is?’
‘Of course I am!’ ‘I have forgotten,’ said Dora, still turn-
ing the button round and round, ‘what relation Agnes is to
you, you dear bad boy.’
‘No blood-relation,’ I replied; ‘but we were brought up to-
gether, like brother and sister.’
‘I wonder why you ever fell in love with me?’ said Dora,
beginning on another button of my coat.
‘Perhaps because I couldn’t see you, and not love you,
Dora!’
‘Suppose you had never seen me at all,’ said Dora, going
to another button.
‘Suppose we had never been born!’ said I, gaily.
I wondered what she was thinking about, as I glanced in