"No—not really, but it is nicer to have just the people you like. But I suppose it is pretty mean to go on having a nice time when somebody else isn't—even if you don't like them—and not ask them."
Aunt Zélie smiled at this remarkable sentence. "It is easy to be selfish with our good times," she said; "but don't be discouraged, you will be more quick to see an opportunity next time. If I am not mistaken I saw a little girl put away her book to play with her small sister not so very long ago."
"Do you think that would count?" Bess asked earnestly.
"I certainly do," answered her aunt, pinching the rosy cheek.
CHAPTER VIII.[ToC]
THE M.KS.
Bess stood at the window, her brows drawn together in a decided frown. Not that the sunshine was dazzling; quite the contrary. It was what Aunt Sukey called a drizzle-drazzle day. The air was full of a penetrating mist that put outdoor amusements out of the question. Stormy Saturdays were particularly trying, and to-day the rain interfered with an expedition to which the children had been looking forward for a week.