"I wish any of my relations did that. Father just says, 'All right, Peggy, I'll take it all on trust—where's the morning paper?' whatever I say to him, and Mother says, 'Put in that little wisp of hair, darling,' or 'Look at your nails,' no matter what I say to her. Sister doesn't listen to anything anybody says any more."
"Him less than anybody, but she spends all her time with him."
"Peggy, don't you think she's got a heart?"
"I don't know what she's got. She kept me awake last night by snivelling for about an hour, and when I got so sorry for her that I couldn't help it, I went in and tried to put my arms around her, and she just turned me out as if I'd been an interloper. I don't know what to make of her lately. If you're looking for a nasty grown-up sister, I'd dispose of her cheap."
"I'm glad she's not happy," Elizabeth said, soberly.
"Well, I'm not. I'm just sore at her about last night, but I'll get over that. You remember that in 'Little Women' about not letting the sun go down upon your wrath. Well, I scarcely ever do."
"I try not to," Elizabeth said. "It isn't getting angry so much that afflicts me. It's a lot of horrid, sensitive ideas that I have. I want to be loved the best, and have things just the way I think is about right—and if I don't, I brood over it."
"Well, I'm a more active nature," Peggy said. "Haven't we had fun to-day?"
"Weren't the huckleberries fun—from bush to kettle, as it were? Weren't those boys cute, to get acquainted with Grandfather?"