the little romance.

"Very much," and Paul's black eyelashes fell.

"Would you die for her, as they say in the old songs?" asked the girl,
melodramatically.

"Yes, Miss Lillian, or live for her, which is harder."

"Dear me, how very nice it must be to have anyone care for one so much,"
said the child innocently. "I wonder if anybody ever will for me?"

"_Love comes to all soon or late,
And maketh gay or sad;
For every bird will find its mate,
And every lass a lad,_"

sang Paul, quoting one of Hester's songs, and looking relieved that
Lillian's thoughts had strayed from him. But he was mistaken.

"Shall you marry this sweetheart of yours someday?" asked Lillian,
turning to him with a curious yet wistful look.

"Perhaps."

"You look as if there was no 'perhaps' about it," said the child, quick
to read the kindling of the eye and the change in the voice that
accompanied the boy's reply.

"She is very young and I must wait, and while I wait many things may