bonnet a spiteful shake, as she put it on, and utterly extinguished it
with a big blue veil. She looped up her dress, leaving no vestige of
the now hateful train, and did herself up uncompromisingly in the
Quakerish gray shawl Pris had insisted on her taking for the evening.
Then she surveyed herself with pensive satisfaction, saying, in the
tone of one bent on resolutely mortifying the flesh,--

"Neat but not gaudy; I'm a fright, but I deserve it, and it's better
than being a peacock."

Kitty had time to feel a little friendless and forlorn, sitting there
alone as twilight fell, and amused herself by wondering if Fletcher
would come to inquire about her, or show any further interest in her;
yet when the sound of a manly tramp approached, she trembled lest it
should be the victim of the fatal facing. The door opened, and with a
sigh of relief she saw Jack come in, bearing a pair of new gloves in
one hand and a great bouquet of June roses in the other.

"How good of you to bring me these! They are more refreshing than
oceans of tea. You know what I like, Jack; thank you very much" cried
Kitty, sniffing at her roses with grateful rapture.

"And you know what I like," returned Jack, with an approving glance at
the altered figure before him.

"I'll never do so any more," murmured Kitty, wondering why she felt
bashful all of a sudden, when it was only cousin Jack.

"Now put on your gloves, dear, and come out and hear the music: your
train doesn't go for two hours yet, and you mustn't mope here all that