“No, Ninny has a headache. I’m your mamma this afternoon. And I won’t be cross to you, darling,” added Mary, with humility, recalling some of her past lectures to this little sister.
“Well,” said Ethel faintly, with her apron between her teeth. “I wasn’t very bad to Kittyleen, but if she wants to forgive me I’ll let her.”
“O sweetest, you make me so happy!”
“Don’t want to make you happy,” returned Ethel disdainfully; “don’t care anything about you! But mamma’s sick. And you—won’t you write her a letter?”
“Write mamma a letter?”
“No, Kittyleen, write it with vi’let ink, won’t you, Flaxie?”
The note was very short and written just as Ethel dictated it:
My Affectionate Friend,—I am very sorry I knocked you down first. I will forgive you if you will forgive me.
Ethel Gray.