with which the furniture put on strange exaggerated resemblances to human
looks. A chair with a menacing frown was horribly out of temper in a
corner; a most vicious chest of drawers snarled at her from between the
windows. It was no relief to escape from those monsters to the looking-
glass, for the reflection said, "What? Is that you all alone there? How
you stare!" And the background was all a great void stare as well.

The day dragged on, dragging Kitty with it very slowly by the hair of her
head, until it was time to eat. There were good provisions in the
pantry, but their right flavour and relish had evaporated with the five
pupils, and Miss Pupford, and Miss Pupford's assistant, and the cook and
housemaid. Where was the use of laying the cloth symmetrically for one
small guest, who had gone on ever since the morning growing smaller and
smaller, while the empty house had gone on swelling larger and larger?
The very Grace came out wrong, for who were "we" who were going to
receive and be thankful? So, Miss Kimmeens was _not_ thankful, and found
herself taking her dinner in very slovenly style--gobbling it up, in
short, rather after the manner of the lower animals, not to particularise
the pigs.

But, this was by no means the worst of the change wrought out in the
naturally loving and cheery little creature as the solitary day wore on.
She began to brood and be suspicious. She discovered that she was full
of wrongs and injuries. All the people she knew, got tainted by her
lonely thoughts and turned bad.

It was all very well for Papa, a widower in India, to send her home to be
educated, and to pay a handsome round sum every year for her to Miss
Pupford, and to write charming letters to his darling little daughter;
but what did he care for her being left by herself, when he was (as no