The Old Pincushion Or Aunt Clotilda's Guests (1890) (e-book) (used book) | bookbook.eu

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No, Kathie, I don't believe you care one bit; I really don't, ' said Neville reproachfully. Kathie was seated as she loved to be-on the edge of a rather high table. Her skirts were short and her legs were long; from her present elevation she could swing the latter about delightfully. She gave them an extra energetic fling before she replied to her brother, and then, trying her best to look concerned and distressed, and only succeeding in giving to her funny little face an expression of comical demureness, she turned to Neville, - 'I do care. You haven't any right to say I don't. If I didn't care for myself, I'd care because you do, and because they do. I'm not a-a-unnatural monster. I'd cry if it was my way, but you know it isn't; and a good thing too. A nice life I'd have had here, ' with great contempt, 'if I'd been a crying child like little Philippa Harley. She's tired everybody out. But what's more, I do care for myself too. I've been looking forward to them coming home, and nice proper holidays, like other children. Yes, indeed, I should just think I had.' 'Holidays only!' Neville repeated. 'It would have been much better than holidays-for you, any way. They wouldn't have left you here. I'd have stayed at school, I suppose-boys must; but I don't mind school. I'd like it very well if I had a home besides.' Kathie did not seem to have noticed his last words. A new expression had come into her face, as she repeated softly to herself, 'They wouldn't have left me here. I never thought of tha