"What are you staring at me for?" said Ben.

"I have been wondering what sort you are. I have got cousins at home,
and they do anything in the world I like. I wonder if you would."

Ben had been very cross with Kathleen when she had knocked to him and
David from the dining-room window, but he was not cross now. He was only
thirteen, and up to the present no pretty girl had ever taken the
slightest notice of him. He was a plain, sandy-haired boy, with a
freckled face, a wide mouth, and good-humored blue eyes.

"You make me laugh whenever I look at you," was Kathleen's next candid
remark.

"I didn't know that I was so comical," was his answer.

"Perhaps you don't like it."

"I can't say I do."

"Well, this is the Palace of Home Truths," said Kathleen, laughing. "I
asked your darling, saintly sister just now which was the most
wicked--to tell a polite lie, or a frightfully rude home truth. She said
that a polite lie was an awful sin, so in this house I must cleave to
the home truths. I could tell you, you know, that you have quite a
fascinating smile, and a very taking voice, and a delightful and
polished manner; but I prefer to tell you that you are comical, which
means that I feel inclined to burst out laughing whenever I look at
you."