restlessly on her seat, and wriggled about in a way that delighted the
small boy.

Arabella was not used to being stared at. She always stared boldly at
other people, but here was some one who looked at her without so much as
blinking. She glanced at the clock, and then, as if just remembering
something, took a small bottle from her pocket, shook some pills into
her hand, swallowed them, and turned to see if Reginald were looking. He
was, and Arabella was provoked.

"What you staring at?" she whispered rudely.

"You!" he whispered, not a bit abashed.

"Well, you just _needn't_," said Arabella.

"I know _I needn't_," replied the small boy, "but I like to."

"Why?" she asked.

"'Cause you're funny," Reginald said. It was not strange that Arabella
was angry. Would any girl be pleased to have a small boy watching her,
and declaring that she was "funny?"

And now Aunt Charlotte was calling the youngest class in reading, and
Reginald hastily snatched his book, and began to hunt for the lesson.

"The third page, Reginald," said Aunt Charlotte; "you may read the first
paragraph."