"I
never did; and I never saw my papa or mamma either."
"No--so you didn't care."
"Well then," said Kate gravely, "we won't play at that. Let's have
'Marmion' instead; and I'll be killed."
"But I don't like you to be killed."
"It is only in play."
"Please--please, let us have a nice play!"
"Well, what do you call a nice play?"
"Alice and I used to drive hoops."
"That's tiresome! My hoop always tumbles down: think of something
else."
"Alice and I used to play at ball; but there's no ball here!"
"Then I'll stuff my pocket-handkerchief with seaweed, and make one;"
and Kate spread out her delicate cambric one--not quite so fit for
such a purpose as the little cheap cotton ones at home, that Mary
tried in vain to save from cruel misuse.
"Here's a famous piece! Look, it is all wriggled; it is a mermaid's
old stay-lace that she has used and thrown away. Perhaps she broke
it in a passion because her grandmother made her wear so many oyster-
shells on her tail!"
"There are no such creatures as mermaids," said Sylvia, looking at
her solemnly.
This was not a promising beginning; Sylvia Joanna was not a bit like
Sylvia Katharine, nor like Adelaide and Grace de la Poer; yet by
seeing each other every day, she and Kate began to shake together,
and become friends.
There was no fear of her exciting Kate to run wild; she was a little
pussy-cat in her dread of wet, and guarded her clothes as if they
could feel--indeed, her happiest moments were spent in the public
walks by Alice's chair, studying how the people were dressed; but
still she thought it a fine thing to be the only child in Bournemouth
who might play with the little Countess, and was so silly as to think
the others envied her when she was dragged and ordered about,
bewildered by Kate's loud rapid talk about all kinds of odd things in
books, and distressed at being called on to tear through the pine-
woods, or grub in wet sand.
Pages:
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144