as a sharp-eyed woman of great activity; she seems to me now to have been perpetually bringing in or taking out meals or doing some such service, and to me--for my mother's sake and my own--she was always welcoming and kind. Puss was a youngster of fourteen perhaps, of whom a hard bright stare, and a pale skin like her mother's, are the chief traces on my memory. All these people were very kind to me, and among them there was a common recognition, sometimes very agreeably finding expression, that I was--"clever." They all stood about me as if they were a little at a loss.
"Sit down!" said her father. "Give him a chair, puss."
We talked a little stiffly--they were evidently surprised by my sudden apparition, dusty, fatigued, and white-faced; but Nettie did not remain to keep the conversation going.
"There!" she cried suddenly, as if she were vexed. "I declare!" and she darted out of the room.
"Lord! what a girl it is!" said Mrs. Stuart. "I don't know what's come to her."
It was half an hour before Nettie came back. It seemed a long time to me, and yet she had been running, for when she came in again she was out of breath. In the meantime, I had thrown out casually that I had given up my place at Rawdon's. "I can do better than that," I said.
