"How tiresome of you to rouse me!" said Alice, opening her eyes and looking crossly at Kathleen.
Kathleen smiled back at her. Her face was rosy. Her hair was tossed in wild confusion about her head and shoulders; it tumbled also over her forehead, and made her eyes look more dancing and mischievous than ever beneath its heavy shadow.
"I wonder—" said Kathleen softly.
If she had spoken in a loud voice Alice would have taken no notice, but there was something pathetic and beautiful in her tone, and Alice raised herself and looked at her.
"I wonder," she said "why you hate me so much?'
"Fudge!" said Alice.
"But Alice, it isn't fudge. Why should I have made myself so terribly obnoxious to you? The others are fond of me; they don't think me perfect—and indeed I don't want them to—but they love me for those qualities in me which are worthy of love."
"How you chatter!" said Alice. "I have hitherto failed to perceive the qualities in you that are worthy of love. It wants another quarter of an hour before our hot water is brought in. Do you greatly object to my sleeping during that time?"
"No, cross patch," said Kathleen, turning angrily on her pillow. "You may sleep till doomsday as far as I am concerned."
"Polite," muttered Alice.