"I don't want to be a great person, but I want to do what is right," said Nelly. "And please, Kitty," she added, with some hesitation, "I would rather you would not stay here while Mrs. Kirkland is away. She does not like the girls to have visitors in the store."
"Oh, very well, Miss Nelly Ryan," said Kitty, her voice trembling with anger. "I suppose that is the same as telling me that my room is better than my company. You are a mighty great lady, to be sure. You did not use to be quite so particular when you were carrying swill about the street."
"And you did not use to be quite so fond of my company," thought Nelly; but she did not say so. She turned to rearrange some matters on the shelf, and, in doing so, she took up the doll Kitty had been handling, and discovered the mischief that had been done: one of the arms had been almost broken off.
"Oh, Kitty, just see what you have done!" she exclaimed. "You have broken the doll. What shall I do?"
"I don't believe I broke it," said Kitty, colouring. "It was just so when I took it up."
Nelly shook her head. "I was showing it to a lady just before you came in, and it was all right then. Oh, how sorry I am! Now I shall have to pay for it, and it is worth four dollars,—almost two weeks' work."
"I don't see what you have got to do with it," said Kitty. "You did not break it."
"No, but you did," answered Nelly; "and Mrs. Kirkland will say I ought not to have let you touch it. Just see now, what trouble you have got me into."
"You needn't be so cross about it," said Kitty, angrily; "and you needn't lay all the blame on me, either. I dare say you broke it yourself, showing it to the lady. Besides, you needn't show it to her the first minute."
"I must," said Nelly: "she always tells me to tell her the minute I do any mischief."