she said, “weren’t you listening to that story?”
“Yes, miss,” confessed Becky, a little alarmed again. “I knowed I hadn’t orter, but it was that beautiful I—I couldn’t help it.”
“I liked you to listen to it,” said Sara. “If you tell stories, you like nothing so much as to tell them to people who want to listen. I don’t know why it is. Would you like to hear the rest?”
Becky lost her breath again.
“Me hear it?” she cried. “Like as if I was a pupil, miss! All about the Prince—and the little white
reflectively, as she thought the matter over.
“Well,” she said at last, “perhaps—perhaps that is because Lavinia is GROWING.” This was the result of a charitable recollection of having heard Miss Amelia say that Lavinia was growing so fast that she believed it affected her health and temper.
Lavinia,