“Don’t I look as if I had?” and, throwing off her wraps, Kitty revolved slowly before her that she might behold every portion of the wreck. “My gown is all dust, crumple, and rags, my bonnet perfectly limp and flat, and my gloves are ruined; I’ve broken Lizzie’s parasol, made a spectacle of myself, and wasted money, time, and temper; yet my Class Day isn’t a failure, for Jack is the dearest boy in the world, and I’m very, very happy!” Pris looked at her a minute, then opened her arms without a word, and Kitty forgot all her little troubles in one great joy. When Miss Smith and Miss Jones called a few days after to tell her that Mr. Fletcher was going abroad, the amiable creatures were entirely routed by finding Jack there in a most unmistakable situation. He blandly wished Horace “bon voyage,” and regretted that he wouldn’t be there to the wedding in October. Kitty devoted herself to blushing beautifully, and darning many rents in a short daisy muslin skirt, “which I intend to wear a great deal, because Jack likes it, and so do I,” she said, with a demure look at her lover, who laughed as if that was the best joke of the season. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ AUNT KIPP. “Children and fools speak the truth.” * * * * * I. “WHAT’S that sigh for, Polly dear?” “I’m tired, mother, tired of working and waiting. If I’m ever going to have any fun, I want it _now_ while I can enjoy it.” “You shouldn’t wait another hour if I could have my way; but you know how helpless I am;” and poor Mrs. Snow sighed dolefully, as she glanced about the dingy room and pretty Mary turning her faded gown for the second time. “If Aunt Kipp would give us the money she is always talking about, instead of waiting till she dies, we should be _so_ comfortable. She is a dreadful bore, for she lives in such terror of dropping dead with her heart-complaint that she doesn’t take any pleasure in life herself or let any one else; so the sooner she goes the better for all of us,” said Polly, in a desperate tone; for things looked very black to her just then. “My dear, don’t say that,” began her mother, mildly shocked; but a bluff little voice broke in with the forcible remark,— “She’s everlastingly telling me never to put off till to-morrow what can be done to-day; next time she comes I’ll remind her of that, and ask her, if she is going to die, why she doesn’t do it?” “Toady! you’re a wicked, disrespectful boy; never let me hear you say such a thing again about your dear Aunt Kipp.” “She isn’t dear! You know we all hate her, and you are more afraid of her than you are of spiders,—so now.”