"Just wait 'till I finish, will you," cried Kittie, as the hat maintained perfect silence, "Kat didn't do it, but she heard that I did, and that I was going to be whipped, so she took my seat and jumped up the minute Miss Howard spoke, and the only way I found out was when Miss Howard said, 'Now Kittie you must beg Susie's pardon before the school.' Then I knew something was up, and just popped right out of my seat and said that that was Kat, not me, and didn't it make a hub-bub, and didn't Miss Howard look funny!" "It was lively," broke in Kat, and coming out from under the hat as if inspired with the recollection, "Miss Howard looked as blank as you please, and like to have never gotten at the straight of it; but after awhile lame Jack told how he had seen Sadie and May fix it themselves, and plan to tell it was Kittie, and oh didn't they look cheap, and didn't they creep off to-night and take every book along?" "But wasn't Kat just too dear and good to take a whipping to save me," cried Kittie, throwing both arms around her twin in a hug full of devotion. "I'll never forget it, Kat Dering, never!" "Well you'd better," said Kat, on whom praise and glory rested uneasily, though she looked pleased and returned the hug with interest. "You'd have done it for me, I know, and I would again for you any day. Let's go out on the roof; it's much cooler than here." "You'd better not," laughed Ernestine. "Olive's out there sketching, and she'll take your head off with her usual sweetness, if you bother any." "Who cares? I'm going. Come on Kittie." "No let's not; it's cool here," returned Kittie lazily. "Where have you been Ernestine, all rigged in your best?" "Been at home pining for some place to go," said Ernestine drawing the sewing from Bea's hand, and leaning over into that sister's lap with a caressive gesture. "Say Bea, dear, Miss Neilson is going to be in New York next week, and I want you to ask pa if he won't take us again; won't you?" "Not fair," cried Kat; "this is our turn." "You, indeed; nothing but children! Will you, Bea? He will listen more if you ask because you're not so frivolous as I am." "Yes, I'll ask. I'd love to go again," said Bea with girlish delight in anticipating such a bliss as the repetition of going to the city and to the theatre. "What play would you like to see?" "Romeo and Juliet again," cried Ernestine eagerly. "Oh Bea, beg him to, for there are some other parts that I want to see how to do." "Do!" echoed Kittie, "Whatever do you mean?" "Just what I say. I'll show you how they do; shall I, Bea?" exclaimed Ernestine, springing gayly into the sunshine and striking an attitude. "Yes, go on; you do it beautifully," said Bea; so Ernestine plunged blithely into the play, thoroughly entrancing her three listeners with the ease and grace with which she spoke and acted, and receiving showers of applause as she paused. "How delightful," cried Kittie, in a longing rapture.