"Who's she?"

"She's my sister. Well, I wanted to light the gas, but Marian said I
was too small, but I'd not listen. I jumped up on a rocker to light
the gas. The chair rocked and, I fell against the windowsill. Marian
screamed, 'Beth's killed. She's covered with blood!'"

"Were you really?"

"Yes." Beth felt she was arguing her case well. "Mamma thought I just
had the nose bleed, but what do you s'pose? I had two mouths."

The boy's eyes grew big. "Two mouths--how jolly. How did it happen?"

"The window-sill had cut me right across here," she pointed to the
space just below her nose. "The doctor took five stitches, and when it
healed, took them out again. It hurt very much, but I didn't cry a
bit."

"Didn't it leave a scar on your face?"

She threw back her head.

"There, do you see that little white line under my nose? You can
hardly see it now."

The boy examined the spot critically. Then he changed the subject.
"Where did you live before you came here?"

"New York."