"Oh!" exclaimed Kitty, deprecatingly, "I'm sure you'll enjoy it, Miss, with so many young gentlemen and ladies. I'm certain master thought you would, or he wouldn't have asked them. And as for my waiting on you, why that's all settled, and Mrs. Roberts knows it too. Mr. Rutledge told me this very morning that he supposed it would please me to be allowed to attend upon you, and that I was to consider that my duty as long as you were here. Mrs. Roberts had come in for some directions, and she heard it all. She jerked her head, and flounced a little, but didn't dare to say a word. But," continued Kitty, anxiously, "I'm afraid you are not well. Can I get you anything? Won't you lie down? Oh! I am afraid you are crying." Kitty's fears were not unfounded. The tears rushed to my eyes, and hiding my face in my hands, I tried, but vainly, to suppress the hysterical sobs that choked me, as I essayed to answer her anxious questions. She was so disappointed and alarmed at my unexpected mood that she hardly knew what to do, and I tried, as soon as I could speak, to assure her that I was really very glad to get back, that there was nothing the matter, only I was very nervous and tired. "And there's the tea-bell!" exclaimed Kitty, in dismay, "and everybody else is dressed! What's to be done?" "There's nothing for it, Kitty, but to let me go to bed. I can't go downstairs to-night--it would kill me. Undress me, and then don't let a soul come in--not even my aunt. That's a good Kitty: it isn't the first time you've taken care of me." "Ah!" said Kitty, with tears in her kind eyes, "if I only knew what to do to make you better! It isn't the headache that I mean--a cup of tea and a good night's rest will make that all right; but you ain't the same young lady that you were last fall. I saw that the minute you stepped into the hall. There's something on your mind; I knew it the instant you spoke. When you used to talk, it was as if there was a laugh in your voice all the time, and now you talk as if you were tired, and hated to open your lips." "So I am, Kitty," I said, with a fresh burst of crying. "I am tired and heart-sick, and when I talk it's no wonder there are 'tears in my voice.' There are a great many things to make me unhappy; you mustn't ask me anything about them; but it's so long since I've had anybody to care for me, and nurse me, that it makes me babyish, I believe. There!" I exclaimed, after a minute, conquering my tears, "don't think anything more about it, Kitty, but help me to undress."