THE SULLIVAN LOOKING-GLASS.
“Aunt Lois,” said I, “what was that story about Ruth Sullivan?”
Aunt Lois's quick black eyes gave a surprised flash; and she and my grandmother looked at each other a minute significantly. “Who told you any thing about Ruth Sullivan,” she said sharply.
“Nobody. Somebody said you knew something about her,” said I.
I was holding a skein of yarn for Aunt Lois; and she went on winding in silence, putting the ball through loops and tangled places.