“You mean Peggy Desmond?”
“Yes, of course; who else should I mean?”
“I agree with you,” said Anne. “I never saw such a pretty girl. I could be frightfully fond of her if it weren’t for Kitty.”
“I wish daddy would allow us to ask Peggy Desmond to stay with us at Hillside!” exclaimed Grace.
“Oh, what would be the use of that?” said Anne; “think what an awful time we’d have with Kitty when we went back to school!”
“That’s true enough. As a matter of fact, Gracie, I’m getting rather tired of Kitty.”
“Tired of her!” exclaimed Anne. “I’m sick of her; but there’s no getting out of it now.”
“I think,” said Grace, “she’s about the meanest girl I ever came across! The way she puts down that accident to poor little Peggy to me! You know what she’d have said if I’d let Peggy escape that time. I never meant to hurt her at all; but she ran so closely, and dodged me, and before I knew where I was I’d given her that awful blow. Oh it makes me sick! I can hear that bone crack in her leg now!”
“Don’t—don’t speak of it!” said Anne.
“I wish I didn’t dream of it,” said Grace. “It is awful to be going in for that prize with that load on my soul. I never felt so bad in my life as that day when we had to hold the Bible and say we knew nothing about it.”