Elizabeth better than you, don't you see? I think she's
prettier, myself. And, of course, she's a lot cleverer. She tells funny
stories and makes people laugh; you never do that--You're a good sort,
but quiet and not much fun, don't you see? Maybe he got plain tired of
you."

But instead of being cheered up by my explaining things, she put her
head on the table and just yowled. Girls are a queer species.

"You're cruel, cruel!" she sobbed out, and you bet that surprised me--me
that was comforting her for all I was worth! I patted her on the back
of the neck, and thought hard what other soothings I could squeeze out.
Then I had an idea. "Tell you what, Peg," I said, "it's too darned bad
of Dr. Denbigh, if he just did it for meanness, when you haven't done
anything to him. But maybe he got riled because you begged him so to let
you be engaged to him. Of course a man doesn't want to be bothered--if
he wants to get engaged he wants to, and if he doesn't want to he
doesn't, and that's all. I think probably Dr. Denbigh was afraid you'd
be at him again when you came home, so he hurried up and snatched Aunt
Elizabeth."

Peggy lifted her face and stared at me. She was a sight, with her eyes
all bunged up and her cheeks sloppy. "You think he IS engaged to her, do
you, Billy?" she asked me.

Her voice sort of shook, and I thought I'd better settle it for her one
way or the other, so I nodded and said, "Wouldn't be surprised," and
then, if you'll believe it, that girl got angry--at ME. "Billy,
you're brutal--you're like any other man-thing--cold-blooded and
faithless--and--" And she began choking--choking again, and I was
disgusted and cleared out.

I was glad when she went off to college, because, though she's a
kind-hearted girl, she was so peevish and untalkative it made me tired.
I think people ought to be cheerful around their own homes. But the
family didn't seem to see it; there are such a lot of us that you have
to blow a trumpet before you get any special notice--except me, when
I don't wash my hands. Yet, what's the use of washing your hands when
you're certain to get them dirty again in five minutes?

Well, then, awhile ago Peggy wrote she was engaged to Harry Goward, and
there was great excitement in the happy home. My people are mobile in
their temperatures, anyway--a little thing stirs them up. I thought it
was queerish, but I didn't know but Peggy had changed her mind about
loving Dr. Denbigh till she died. I