"Well, Miss Barbara!" she said. "How you've grown!"

That made me rather sore, because I am not a child any longer, but they
all talk to me as if I were but six years old, and small for my age.

"I've stopped growing, Hannah," I said, with dignaty. "At least, almost.
But I see I still draw the nursery."

Hannah was opening my suitcase, and she looked up and said: "I tried to
get you the Blue room, Miss Bab. But Miss Leila said she needed it for
house Parties."

"Never mind," I said. "I don't care anything about Furnature. I have
other things to think about, Hannah; I want the school room Desk up
here."

"Desk!" she said, with her jaw drooping.

"I am writing now," I said. "I need a lot of ink, and paper, and a good
Lamp. Let them keep the Blue room, Hannah, for their selfish purposes. I
shall be happy in my work. I need nothing more."

"Writing!" said Hannah. "Is it a book you're writing?"

"A Play."

"Listen to the child! A Play!"

I sat on the edge of the bed.