time for your return, Rosa. We have not had a very happy walk, have we?”
“A happy walk? A detestably unhappy walk, sir. If I go upstairs the moment I get in and cry till I can’t take my dancing lesson, you are responsible, mind!”
“Let us be friends, Rosa.”
“Ah!” cries Rosa, shaking her head and bursting into real tears, “I wish we could be friends! It’s because we can’t be friends, that we try one another so. I am a young little thing, Eddy, to have an old heartache; but I really, really have, sometimes. Don’t be angry. I know you have one yourself, too often. We should both of us have done better, if What is to be had been left, What might have been. I am quite a little serious thing now, and not teasing you. Let each of us forbear, this one time, on our own account, and on the other’s!”