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,
or blistered my face with steam from the kettle! That would be frightful,
now. It's the least I can do for Prof. Darmstetter to keep free from harm
the beauty he gives me. And besides,--I never before was afraid, but now I
go scurrying through the halls and up and down the stairs like a wild
thing; the place is so public, so many people notice me.
I wonder if I couldn't talk to Mrs. Baker. She's at home now. Or there's
the Judge's sister, Miss Marcia, the dearest old maid. I've only seen her
once or twice, but I believe she'd be good to know.
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