d think things
over, without having people say I looked pale, and ask whether the ice
cream festival at Hermann's Corners had given me a headache.

Patty and Ide had decided to make maple candy and "chocolate fudge"
after dinner, so that we could have it to eat in the evening, and Mr.
Brett and I had promised to help. American girls always seem to make
candy if they have nothing else more interesting to do, and usually I
think it very entertaining. Carolyn Pitchley's often went wrong, and
she would keep several servants busy clearing away plates and spoons,
bringing fresh ones, and cleaning out the chafing dish which she had
burnt. But Patty and Ide are cleverer; they do everything for
themselves; and I should have enjoyed helping, if I had been in a
different mood. As it was, I would have realised that I was an
outsider, and that maybe they would be gayer without me, though they
are always so polite. I had slipped away without speaking to anyone,
and as I was pretty sure that no one would come to the sugar camp at
this time of day, I could let myself be as gloomy as I liked.

I sat there in the deep green shade of the maples, on the log where Mr.
Brett and I had talked the first day I came to the Valley Farm. All the
disagreeable things that ever happened to me since I was a child took
this opportunity to stir in their graves and come to life again. Then
they sat down in front of me in a dreary semicircle, staring me in the
face until I couldn't stand it any longer, and began to cry. Vivace was
very much surprised, and jumped up with his paws in my lap, as if he
were saying, "What _is_ the matter?" This was a comfort, and I put my
head down on his, with my arms round his neck, and cried more.

If you once let yourself go, like that, you can't stop. Hearing your
own little chokes and gasps makes you pity yourself so much that your
heart nearly breaks. I was sobbing out loud, presently, which made
Vivace whine, and I had almost begun to enjoy my utter forlornness and
the distinction of being the most miserable person in the whole world
when a distracted voice exclaimed:

"Why, Lady Betty, Lady Betty, for heaven's sake what's happened?"

I looked up all teary and flushed, and there was Mr. Brett, staring at
me with horrified eyes, and his face as desperate as if he had found me
struck by lightning or gored by the black and white bull.

I was so ashamed and confused that I couldn't speak, but just sat there
gazing up