"Oh Dora!" said Amy, "I do not think you can guess how good Miss Morton is, or how easily she would forgive."
"Forgive!" exclaimed Dora, quickly, "what should she forgive?"
Amy blushed deeply; "I beg your pardon, Dora, only I thought you meant——"
"Well! go on; meant what?"
"Don't be angry with me, dear Dora, only I thought, perhaps, you fancied that Miss Morton would not like you, because sometimes, you know, you show that you do not like her."
"You had better say it in plain words," exclaimed Dora, whilst the working of her forehead showed the storm that was gathering; "because sometimes—no—very often, you know you are very cross."
"No, Dora," replied Amy, gently; "I do not wish to say it in any other words; it would be wrong in me, for you know it is not my place to tell you you are cross; and, besides, I am often cross myself."
"But you meant it, I know you meant it; just say now whether you did."
"I wish you would not ask me anything about it; I did not mean to vex you, and I was careless when I spoke."
"You were, indeed," said Dora; "and, perhaps, the next time, you will think twice before you accuse persons who are older than yourself."