That night, when the girls went to bed, Kat was very much subdued, and kept her face quite persistently out of sight. Kittie administered comfort in broken and complete doses, but without much effect, for just now, when under the new enthusiasm, every one was doing her best in all ways, Kat felt her disgrace, more deeply than was customary for her, who fell into it, and out again pretty nearly every day, and so she refused to be comforted. Perhaps there was another reason for the complete and deep contrition. At any rate, she whispered to Kittie with a choke, that fought against being a sob,--before they went to sleep; "Oh, Kittie!--I can't go--go, nutting!" Sure enough. Kat ate her breakfast with red eyes and a poor appetite the next morning, while the sun shone, as it surely never did before, and Kittie gayly laughed and chatted, but trying to be not too happy, as was consistent with the deep sympathy felt and expressed for suffering Kat, who had vanished beyond the power of sight or search, when at eight o'clock, a merry party halted at the gate, and the home girls, gayly escorted Kittie and her baskets down the walk. That was a dismal morning to be sure. Kat did her portion of the work before any of the other girls came up stairs, and no one saw her again that morning, for with a volume of history, "St. Elmo," and six apples, she departed for the back roof, where she sat down and cried as hard as ever she could for five minutes, then opened the history, and took a fierce bite out of the biggest apple. "There, I won't cry another tear, it's a blessing that I wasn't shut up for the day, instead of being allowed to roam around, when I can't let things alone that I'm told to. I'm going to learn a chapter of this history, now, before I read a word of 'St. Elmo,' though I don't see the use. Whatever do I care about the Edwards' and Henrys' and all that!" And then Kat shook herself, opened her book, and valiantly attacked Henry the Fifth, with every possible intention of doing just exactly what she said; but in about ten minutes a little puff of wind sailed across the roof, tossed open the cover of 'St. Elmo,' fluttered the leaves, then flew away, leaving them open, just where Edna goes to the old church for the last time, and Kat's eyes strayed right down to the tempting words, and somehow they did not come back at once. That old roof was just like all the rest of the house, roomy, shady and cool. The flourishing top of a huge apple-tree reached over one side of it, with tempting seats in its boughs, and on another side, was the wide roomy window, with its worn sill, that led into the garret of the main part of the house. Solid comfort had it always been to the girls, and sometimes on warm Sunday afternoons, all the family might be found, distributed over its flat, roomy surface, with old comforts and pillows, and a good supply of books and fans.