"What are you doing?" gasped Betty excitedly. "What a lovely fire!"
At the sound of a voice Anna spun round quickly, the very picture of frightened guilt; but when she saw Betty her fear turned to anger, hot and uncontrollable because she was frightened.
"You are always spying and prying after me," she cried passionately. "Why can I never have a moment to myself? Other people can, and why can't I?"
Poor Anna was hot and overdone, and her nerves were so much on edge that she scarcely knew what she was doing or saying. But Betty had no knowledge of nerves, and under this unfair accusation she could make no allowance for her cousin, and her temper rose too.
"How dare you say I pry and spy! You know it is not true, Anna. I only came to ask you to play with us, and—and how was I to know that you were doing something that you didn't want any one to see? Why don't you want any one to see you? What are you burning?" Betty stepped nearer and looked more closely. "O Anna, it is your clothes that you are burning. Oh, how did it happen? You didn't do it on purpose, did you?"
"It doesn't matter to you how it happened. If you don't want to wear things you hate, you just go and tell tales to your father. You can get everything you want. But I haven't any one to stick up for me, and I've got to do things for myself."
"Then you set this on fire on purpose! Oh, how wicked; and they cost such a lot too! I wonder you aren't afraid to be so wicked!" cried Betty indignantly.
"I don't care," said Anna, trying to put on a bold front. "I never did want the things, and I never shall. I should die if I went about much longer a perfect mountain of clothes. How would you like to wear a 'hug-me-tight' under a serge coat in this weather?"
"Not at all. But what shall you say to Aunt Pike?"
"I shan't say anything; but I suppose you will," sneered Anna. "I do wish you wouldn't be always poking and prying about where you are not wanted. You might know that people like to be left alone sometimes."