"My private opinion is that dear little Eileen was tickled to death by
the mistake. The only thing she didn't like about it was--its _being_
a mistake."
"If you talk like that, I'll wish the whale was Jonah's," said Petro.
"She does love you!" Ena got out hurriedly, fearing to be stopped, or
caught up in the surprisingly strong arms of Petro, and gently set
down on the wrong side of the door. "She does! She does! I've thought
so a long time. Now I know it. I mustn't tell you how."
"You oughtn't to tell me how. It isn't true and it isn't kind--to
either of us. I hate hearing such darned nonsense about a girl who
likes me as a friend. And she'd be mad as the dickens if she could
hear."
"Perhaps she'd be mad," Ena admitted, "because it _is_ true. If it
weren't she'd only laugh. You're a simple Simon not to see. Everybody
else with eyes does see. And they'll all be sorry for her if you don't
speak."
"Any one would think I was a dog and she was a bone," growled Petro.
"Speak, indeed! I wish you'd mind your own business, Ena."
"I am minding it as hard as I can," said his sister, "and you ought to
thank me for taking an interest in yours, too.
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