it keenly.

"I didn't think Dan would have changed so," said Kitty dejectedly, as
she and Betty lay in their beds discussing the serious state of affairs.

"I don't know," said Betty darkly. "_I_ thought he was very odd the
night Aunt Pike came. First there was the rude way he spoke to me about
my making up to her, and then _he_ went and got that bottle of
embercation for her. _I_ called _that_ sucking up to her."

"But Dan is always polite," said Kitty, warm in defence of him at once.
She might sometimes admit to herself that there was a flaw in her
brother, but she could not endure that any one else should see one;
"and he is always sorry for people when they are hurt, and it was our
fault that she was hurt."

"Yes, it was his fault really," said Betty, whose memory was a good
one--too good at times, some said--"for he was the first to kick off his
boots and leave them there."

"I know; but he didn't tell us to do the same. And you see we had all
agreed to be polite to Aunt Pike, and you could have got the embrocation
for her if you had liked."

"But I don't see why it should be called 'polite' if Dan does it, but
'sucking up' if _I_ do it," argued Betty.

Kitty sighed. She often wished that Betty would not want things
explained so carefully. She never made allowances for changes of mood
or sudden impulses. Kitty herself so constantly experienced both, that