Page:Chetyates00yateiala.pdf/28

 stems of grass, and began twisting them together in her fingers and thinking. Bess is a dandy at planning things, and I began to have hopes.

"Maybe we could," she said at last, "if we are just real polite, but don't pay any attention to her,—treat her as if she didn't interest us at all."

"Which she doesn't," I put in. "That's the thing. We'll just say 'good-morning' and 'good-night,' and the rest of the time we simply won't know she's living. Nobody can make a fuss with us, as long as we are polite to her."

"Over-polite," said Bess, smoothing out the grass stems over her knee. "And if they make us take her with us anywhere, we'll treat her like company every minute of the time."

"Good!" said I.

Bess sort of stared, and looked at me suddenly, as if she had just waked up, sort of opening her eyes wide, and blinking them.

"What's the matter now?" I asked.

Bess pressed her lips together and turned her face away and stared off at the hills far over on the West Virginia side, and her eyes looked as if she wanted to cry.