"No, child, nothing. What are you doing there? Mending the parlor
curtain, eh? Can't old Mary attend to that, and give you a chance
to frisk about with the other girls?"

"Papa! As if I wanted to frisk! I declare you're as bad as Cousin
Olivia. She's always telling me that I ought to bubble over with
mirth. I don't wish to bubble. I don't know how."

"I'm afraid you don't," said Dr. Carr, with an odd sigh, which set
Katy to wondering. What should papa sigh for? Had she done any
thing wrong? She began to rack her brains and memory as to whether
it could be this or that; or, if not, what could it be? Such needless
self-examination does no good. Katy looked more "solemn" than ever
after it.

Altogether, Mrs. Page was not a favorite in the family. She had every
intention of being kind to her cousin's children, "so dreadfully in
want of a mother, poor things!" but she could not hide the fact that
their ways puzzled and did not please her; and the children detected
this, as children always will. She and Mr. Page were very polite.
They praised the housekeeping, and the excellent order or every
thing, and said there never were better children in the world than
John and Dorry and Phil. But, through all, Katy perceived the hidden
disapproval; and she couldn't help feeling glad when the visit ended,
and they went away.

With their departure, matters went back to their old train, and Katy
forgot her disagreeable feelings. Papa seemed a little grave and
preoccupied; but the doctors often are when they have bad cases to
think of, and nobody noticed it particularly, or remarked that several