After another pause, she inquired: "Do you like me, Chris ?" "Rather! What a foolish question to ask!" Christopher replied, with a blush, for he was always shy of talking about his feelings; and the more he felt the shyer he became.
But Elisabeth was not shy, and had no sympathy with anybody who was.
"How much do you like me ?" she continued.
"A lot." "But I want to know exactly how much." "Then you can't.

Nobody can tell how much they like anybody.

You do ask silly questions!" "Yes; they can.

I can tell how much I like everybody," Elisabeth persisted.
"How ?" "I have a sort of thermometer in my mind, just like the big thermometer in the hall; and I measure how much I like people by that." "How much do you like your Cousin Anne ?" he asked.
"Ninety-six degrees," replied Elisabeth promptly.
"And your Cousin Maria ?" "Sixty." "And Mrs.Bateson ?" "Fifty-four." Elisabeth always knew her own mind.
"I say, how--how--how much do you like me ?" asked Christopher, with some hesitation.
"Sixty-two," answered Elisabeth, with no hesitation at all.
And Christopher felt a funny, cold feeling round his loyal heart.

He grew to know the feeling well in after years, and to wonder how Elisabeth could understand so much and yet understand so little; but at present he was too young to understand himself..