"Kitty, Kitty! Why aren't you my fairy godmother, so that you could show
me in a magic glass what to do, instead of scolding me, when I'm wretched
enough already?"

"Wretched! You!" Her eyes fairly blazed. "I wouldn't ever--_ever_ be
wretched if I looked like you--not ever in this world!"

"Yes, you would. You'd be so puzzled about things; and bad girls would
scold you, and there wouldn't be a single soul within two thousand miles
to rely upon. And you'd be awkward and shy when folks looked at you. And
then you'd--you'd--you'd cry."

Afterwards we both wiped our eyes and made it all up; and I told her again
that I really was fond of John.

Well, folks must eat. I went out to get some chops, a half dozen oranges
and the other things for supper--we have lunch and supper, no dinner--and
though I started so blue and wretched, I simply couldn't stay melancholy
long, people stared at me and admired me so much. They crowded after me
into the little corner grocery, and the room was so full that some one
upset a tub of pickles and there they stood around in the vinegar to look
at me.

It was frightful! But it was nice too; though I was so embarrassed that I
wanted to run away. I'll get used to it; but--why, my own mother wouldn't
know me! It's no wonder Kitty is frightened.

I wish I could see Ma. But she couldn't advise me. I ought to have a home,
though, and some one older than Kitty to look after me. I must leave the
den; but where to go? Suppose I burned myself broiling chops or beefsteak,