“Oh, of course you cannot tell; but she used to be so merry, and now she is quite quiet and grave, and we hardly ever see her over with us now. I was asking her what ailed her.”
“And what did she say?”
“Oh, she laughed at me, and denied that anything ailed her, and then she said she was growing wise. But I know something is wrong with her, though she would not tell me.”
“What do you think it is, Shenac?”
“I cannot tell. It is not only that she is quieter—I could understand that; but she hardly ever comes over now, and something is vexing her, I’m sure. Could it be anything Dan has said? He used to vex her sometimes. What do you think it can be, Allister?”
There was a little pause, and then Allister said,—
“I think I know what it is, Shenac.”
“You!” exclaimed Shenac. “What is it? Have I anything to do with it? Am I to blame?”
“You have something to do with it, but you are not to blame,” said Allister.
“Tell me, Allister,” said his sister.