doubt that."

The girl turned and threw her arms impulsively around the other's neck.
"Oh, no, no!" she said. "I could not doubt it. I know it. I _feel_ it!
Oh, you can't guess what it is to me to know it! I have so little in my
life to make it grow to any thing, and I want so much! And you can give
me all I want--all, all; and it makes me so happy when I think of
it,--that I have got you and can have all I want!"

"And is this frantic outburst meant exclusively for Soeur Angélique?"
asked Denham. "I am green with unutterable jealousy. I thought I was your
friend too, Miss Phebe."

Phebe still knelt with her arms around Mrs. Whittridge, but she looked up
at him with her frank, loving eyes and smiled. "You know I meant you
both," she said softly.

An almost irresistible impulse came over the young man to lay his hand,
as his sister had done, on the soft, bright-brown hair. Clergymen are but
human after all. He bent forward, but only lifted one of his sister's
thin white hands and held it a moment between his. "We must both do our
best by this foolish little girl who trusts us so frankly with her
friendship, must we not, Soeur Angélique?" he said gravely.

"I for one am very glad to assume the trust," said Mrs. Whittridge.

"And won't you ever tire of me? ever? ever?" asked the girl.

"Not ever."