She looked round, but she perceived that the fog had risen and formed thick walls all round the place. She was in a prison of fog.
“But you see you can’t go back,” remarked the old woman. “Here you are, and here you must stay. May I ask,” she continued, fixing the full glare of her glasses upon Kitty, “if you did not come to be punished, what did you come for? Come, you had better have a whipping; it will do you good anyhow.”
“I came,” said Kitty, ignoring the last suggestion, and feeling ashamed of the reason she was going to give, “I came to see the naughtiest child, and to see how it was punished.”
The old woman smiled sourly. It was certainly a most unpleasant smile. It curled up and up, until it seemed to curl up into her ears. Kitty felt a cold shiver go down her back.
“You’re all right for that,” answered the old woman cheerily; “walk on; you’ll find the naughtiest child here.”
She disappeared as she said this; but the next moment she popped her head out of the fog again. “Good-by, Miss Curiosity. I hope you’ll enjoy what you’re going to see. Curious little girls don’t always enjoy what they find out.”
Her spectacles flashed as if they were laughing, and once more she disappeared.
“Miss Curiosity indeed!” said Kitty, tossing back her head.
She walked along with her cheeks on fire. Perhaps the mist had cleared away, or her eyes were growing accustomed to the grayness, for she could see about her. She was in a wild, flat field, utterly lonely and loveless, without a blade of grass or a flower, nothing but thistles and thorns. It stretched far away, solitary and pathless.
“I wish I had not come,” muttered Kitty, feeling frightened at the solitude. Then she thought she would go back to the old woman with the spectacles. She was not pleasant, but she was company. No glimpse of the old woman could she catch. She was alone in the lonely plain. Alone! and yet Kitty fancied some one was near her—some one quite near, that she could not see or hear. But who was there behind the fog?