"Never mind, dear, now. I'll just sit quietly here, and contemplate you
while you are studying."

Bessie sighed impatiently. She then bent again over her book, and began
to devour the pages. Kitty watched her with marked interest.

"I wonder if it will be my fate to have to take up with literature in
sober earnest," she said to herself, "I, who can never abide a book. Oh,
to be back again in the dear old place! I should not be a bit surprised
if Laurie is out fishing now, and Pat with him. And oh, suppose they are
bringing in the trout, and the creatures are leaping and struggling as
they come to shore, and father is going round to feed the dogs--why, the
thought is enough to madden me. Oh, then, why did I ever leave home? I
don't care _that_ for books, nor for being clever nor for--How she works
to be sure! How earnest she looks. She has got a very fine forehead,
although it is miles too high. She ought to wear a fringe; it would
improve her wonderfully. I will cut her hair some day if she will let
me. I will cut it and curl it. I have got the dearest little jewel of a
pair of curling tongs that ever was seen! Aunt Honora sent it to me in a
box with a spirit lamp all complete when I got the rest of my things.
I'll just exercise those little tongs on dear, nice Bessie. I do wish
she would not be so devoted to that book, she might talk. Oh, I am
lonely. I think I'll fidget a bit."

Kitty moved her chair, creaking it ominously; but Bessie had got to a
most thrilling part of her subject, and Kitty might have creaked the
library down before she would have roused her companion's attention.

"Now, if I sigh, perhaps that will do it," thought Kitty. She opened her
mouth and let some profound sighs come up from the depths of her heart;