shoulders. 'You ain't forget about me, Jim?'

Grandmother kissed her. 'God bless you, child! Now you've come, you must
try to do right and be a credit to us.'

Antonia looked eagerly about the house and admired everything. 'Maybe I
be the kind of girl you like better; now I come to town,' she suggested
hopefully.

How good it was to have Antonia near us again; to see her every day and
almost every night! Her greatest fault, Mrs. Harling found, was that
she so often stopped her work and fell to playing with the children. She
would race about the orchard with us, or take sides in our hay-fights
in the barn, or be the old bear that came down from the mountain and
carried off Nina. Tony learned English so quickly that by the time
school began she could speak as well as any of us.

I was jealous of Tony's admiration for Charley Harling. Because he was
always first in his classes at school, and could mend the water-pipes
or the doorbell and take the clock to pieces, she seemed to think him
a sort of prince. Nothing that Charley wanted was too much trouble for
her. She loved to put up lunches for him when he went hunting, to mend
his ball-gloves and sew buttons on his shooting-coat, baked the kind of
nut-cake he liked, and fed his setter dog when he was away on trips with
his father. Antonia had made herself cloth working-slippers out of Mr.
Harling's old coats, and in these she went padding about after Charley,
fairly panting with eagerness to please him.

Next to Charley, I think she loved Nina best. Nina was only six, and she
was rather more complex than the other children. She was fanciful,
had all sorts of unspoken preferences, and was easily offended. At the
slightest disappointment or displeasure, her velvety brown eyes filled
with tears, and she would lift her chin and walk silently away. If we
ran after her and tried to appease her, it did no good. She walked on
unmollified. I used to think that no eyes in the world could grow
so large or hold so many tears as Nina's. Mrs. Harling and Antonia
invariably took her part. We were never given a chance to explain. The
charge was simply: 'You have made Nina cry. Now, Jimmy can go home, and
Sally must get her arithmetic.' I liked Nina, too; she was so quaint and
unexpected, and her eyes were lovely; but I often wanted to shake her.

We had jolly evenings at the Harlings' when the father was away. If he
was at home, the children had to go to bed early, or they came over