"Josephine Smith called me stupid and sour, because I sat in the corner watching the rest."
"Josephine Smith did?" cried Chester, indignantly. "But never mind. Don't cry about it. Do you know, you are as much better—brighter than she is, as light is brighter and better than darkness? You are ten times more agreeable. She has nothing to compare with your pure soul."
"You are so kind to say so! But others do not think it, if you do," murmured Hepsy. "Oh!" she exclaimed, with a burst of passionate grief, "it was cruel in her, to be Henry Wilbur's judge, and sentence him to kiss me!"
"Did she?"
"Yes; then they all laughed, and she ran out in the sitting-room after you; and the rest thought it such a joke, that anybody should have to kiss me!"
Hepsy spoke very bitterly, and Chester's blood boiled with indignation.
"I can't believe they were making fun at your expense," said he, in a suppressed tone. "If I thought they were so heartless——"
"Oh, they did not know how I would feel about it, I am sure," interrupted the girl.
"Did Henry laugh?"
"No,"—with a melancholy smile,—"it was no laughing matter with him!—No!—Henry was very gentlemanly about it. He did not hesitate, although I saw him turn all sorts of colors; but came right up to do penance, like a hero. I thanked him in my heart for the good will he showed; but I would not let him kiss me, for I knew it would be disagreeable to him."