You used to look happier when the postman brought
you something from him. And you had his picture--"
"The postman's?" I interrupted, but Kitty kept on as if she were wound
up:--
"--on the mantel-piece, in a white-and-gold frame with your own. You hid
'em both when you began to grow beautiful. I suppose you think you're too
good for him. But don't go and break his heart; please don't, Princess;
there's a dear."
"Goose! I haven't the least notion of breaking his heart. I--why can't you
let me alone? I'm--I'm very fond of him--if you will insist on talking
about it."
"Oh, I can see! If you'd noticed the poor fellow's face--"
"'Poor fellow!' If you'd seen him before you came! He doesn't need your
pity. Why, it seems to have been with you a case of love at first sight,"
I said mockingly. "He was rude to you, too; he never even noticed that you
were in the room, after I came."
"I don't care. I don't expect a man to notice me when he meets his
sweetheart for the first time in ever so long; and such a sweetheart! But
you--you--oh, I'm afraid of you! I'm afraid of you! What is this mystery?
What is it? Why have you grown so grand and terrible? What has become of
my chum?"
She sat down flat on the floor and burst into passionate weeping.
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