A great many young men came to see her, and Kittie liked one of them
very much indeed--better than all the others. He was handsome, and he
laughed and joked a good deal, and always brought Kittie big boxes of
candy and called her his little sister. He said she was going to be that
in the end, anyhow, and there was no use waiting to give her the title
that his heart dictated. He said it just that way. When he took
Josephine out in his automobile he'd say, "Let's take the kid, too," and
they would, and it did not take Kittie long to understand how things
were between George Morgan--for that was indeed his name--and her
sister. Little do grown-up people realize how intelligent are the minds
of the young, and how keen and penetrating their youthful gaze! Clearly
do I recall some things that happened at home, and it would startle papa
and mamma to know I know them, but I will not reveal them here. Once I
would have done so, in the beginning of my art; but now I have learned
to finish one story before I begin another.

Little did Mr. Morgan and Josephine wot that every time she refused him
Kittie's young heart burned beneath its sense of wrong, for she did
refuse him almost every time they went out together, and yet she kept
right on going. You would think she wouldn't, but women's natures are
indeed inscrutable. Some authors would stop here and tell what was in
Josephine's heart, but this is not that kind of a story. Kittie was only
twelve then, and they used big words and talked in a queer way they
thought she would not understand; but she did, every time, and she never
missed a single word they said. Of course she wasn't _listening_
exactly, you see, because they knew she was there. That makes it
different and quite proper. For if Kittie was more intelligent than her
elders it was not the poor child's fault.

Things went on like that and got worse and worse, and they had been