She sat down flat on the floor and burst into passionate weeping.
"Get up!" I cried.
"I won't!"
A sense of great loneliness came over me and I threw myself down beside her.
"Oh, Kitty," I said, "why aren't you old and wise and sensible instead of being just a silly girl like myself? Then you wouldn't sit here howling, but you'd kiss me and cuddle me and comfort me and tell me what to do."
"I'm afraid of you! I'm afraid of you! It's--it's no' canny."
"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, 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.