doubt he always was) enjoying himself in company from morning till night?
Perhaps he only sent her here, after all, to get her out of the way. It
looked like it--looked like it to-day, that is, for she had never dreamed
of such a thing before.

And this old pupil who was being married. It was unsupportably conceited
and selfish in the old pupil to be married. She was very vain, and very
glad to show off; but it was highly probable that she wasn't pretty; and
even if she were pretty (which Miss Kimmeens now totally denied), she had
no business to be married; and, even if marriage were conceded, she had
no business to ask Miss Pupford to her wedding. As to Miss Pupford, she
was too old to go to any wedding. She ought to know that. She had much
better attend to her business. She had thought she looked nice in the
morning, but she didn't look nice. She was a stupid old thing. G was
another stupid old thing. Miss Pupford's assistant was another. They
were all stupid old things together.

More than that: it began to be obvious that this was a plot. They had
said to one another, "Never mind Kitty; you get off, and I'll get off;
and we'll leave Kitty to look after herself. Who cares for her?" To be
sure they were right in that question; for who _did_ care for her, a poor
little lonely thing against whom they all planned and plotted? Nobody,
nobody! Here Kitty sobbed.

At all other times she was the pet of the whole house, and loved her five
companions in return with a child's tenderest and most ingenuous
attachment; but now, the five companions put on ugly colours, and
appeared for the first time under a sullen cloud. There they were, all
at their homes that day, being made much of, being taken out, being
spoilt and made disagreeable, and caring nothing for her. It was like