"No, indeed, I never found any one impolite enough to tell me; but you will, I'm sure."
"Don't judge my politeness by your own!"
"I can't for you have none," he rejoined coolly.
Kat could have slapped him with a relish, and like as not, if he had been nearer her own age she would have tried it. As it was, she looked into his laughing eyes and knew that she was angry, and he was not, therefore he would win, for a cool head can think a great deal faster than a hot one; so she turned on her heel with a contemptuous spin, and left him.
That afternoon she heard Ralph and Kittie planning a walk to the woods next day, and her jealous heart ached and burned fiercely. How despicable he was to take all of Kittie's time, and make himself such a paragon in her eyes, that she could talk of no one else. Kat shook her head in dire vengeance, and might have cried if she hadn't been too proud. But just then Kittie said:
"I don't know, Ralph, whether I can go or not; I have some sewing that I ought to do; you remember how I tore my dress the last time we went boating? well, I ought to darn it, you see."
"No, I don't happen to see, unless you take it out in the woods and mend it, while I make you a crown and put it on your head as queen of industrious girls. Violets would be very becoming to your brown hair and winsome face."
"What nonsense!" muttered Kat, in disgust, while all the time her heart ached. "Wouldn't it be a joke if he was saying all those things to me instead of Kittie, and didn't know the difference. He wouldn't think I had a winsome face if I was the last girl alive, and yet I'm the moral image of Kittie."
"Perhaps I can find time to darn my dress this afternoon, and if I do, then I'll go to-morrow," Kittie was saying, and then in a few moments Ralph went away. The moment he was gone Kat came around into the arbor, and threw herself on the grass.
"Now then, Kittie."