At this Maurice poured forth all his disappointment at not being able to
go with the Parton boys on their excursion down the bay.

"I am just as sorry for you as I can be," said Celia, clasping her hands
in her lap--such slender hands--and looking far away as if she were tired
of everything near by. It was only for a moment, then she said with a
little laugh, "You can't possibly understand, Maurice, but I shouldn't
mind a sprained knee in the least; I think I could even enjoy it, if I
hadn't any more responsibility than you have."

"But you don't care to go fishing," he suggested.

"Oh, yes, I do; I like to fish." With a smile she said good-by, and went
away.

After this Maurice settled down into deeper despondency than before. He
had refused an invitation to drive, hid treated with bitter scorn
Katherine's suggestion that he might like to go out to the creek with her
and Blossom. "You could ride in the stage, you know, and have to walk only
the least little bit," she said.

"Thank you; it is _such_ fun to throw stones in the water," he replied,
with elaborate politeness.

That Maurice was badly spoiled was no secret. The only boy in the family,
with bright, engaging ways when things went to please him, he had been
petted and humored by his parents, given up to by Katherine, and treated
as a leader by his boy friends, until he had come to look upon his own
pleasure as the most important thing in the universe. Not that he realized