pipe and slapping mosquitoes outside the door, and Mrs. Worrett
sleeping rather noisily in a big rocking-chair. But not even Johnnie
found out that she was crying; for Elsie felt that she was the
naughtiest child in the world to behave so badly when everybody was
so kind to her. She repeated this to herself many times, but it
didn't do much good. As often as the thought of home and Katy and
papa came, a wild longing to get back to them would rush over her,
and her eyes would fill again with sudden tears.

The night was very uncomfortable. Not a breath of wind was stirring,
or none found its way to the stifling bed where the little sisters
lay. John slept pretty well, in spite of heat and mosquitoes, but
Elsie hardly closed her eyes. Once she got up and went to the window,
but the blue paper shade had become unfastened, and rattled down upon
her head with a sudden bump, which startled her very much. She could
find no pins in the dark, so she left it hanging; whereupon it rustled
and flapped through the rest of the night, and did its share toward
keeping her awake. About three o'clock she fell into a doze; and it
seemed only a minute after that before she waked up to find bright
sunshine in the room, and half a dozen roosters crowing and calling
under the windows. Her head ached violently. She longed to stay in
bed, but was afraid it would be thought impolite, so she dressed and
went down with Johnnie; but she looked so pale and ate so little
breakfast that Mrs. Worrett was quite troubled, and said she had
better not try to go out, but just lie on the lounge in the best
room, and amuse herself with a book.

The lounge in the best room was covered with slippery purple chintz.
It was a high lounge and very narrow. There was nothing at the end
to hold the pillow in its place; so the pillow constantly tumbled off