has got nothing to do with it--only that I made him know
who was his master. And then I tried to go on with a lot of things as
usual; but somehow I did not care at all. There was a great rat hunt
that I had been thinking of more than three weeks, when they got the
straddles down, to be ready for the new ricks to come instead. But I
could not go near it; and it made them think that the whole of my inside
was out of order. And it must have been. I can see by looking back; it
must have been so, without my knowing it. I hit several people with my
holly on their shins, because they knew more than I did. But that was no
good; nor was anything else. I only got more and more out of sorts, and
could not stay quiet anywhere; and yet it was no good to me to try to
make a noise. All day I went about as if I did not care whether people
contradicted me or not, or where I was, or what time I should get back,
or whether there would be any dinner. And I tucked up my feet in my
nightgown every night; but instead of stopping there, as they always
used to do, they were down in cold places immediately; and instead of
any sleep, I bit holes by the hundred in the sheets, with thinking. I
hated to be spoken to, and I hated everybody; and so I do now, whenever
I come to think about them!"

"Including even poor me, I suppose?" Insie had wonderfully pretty
eyebrows, and a pretty way of raising them, and letting more light into
her bright hazel eyes.

"No, I never seemed to hate you; though I often was put out, because I
could never make your face come well. I was thinking of you always, but
I could not see you. Now tell me whether you have been like that."

"Not at all; but I have thought of you once or twice, and wondered what
could make you want to come and see me. If I were a boy, perhaps I could
understand it."

"I hate boys; I am a man all over now. I am old enough to have a wife;
and I mean to have you. How much do you suppose my waistcoat cost? Well,
never mind, because you are not rich. But I have got money enough for
both of us to live well, and nobody can keep me out of it. You know what
a road is, I suppose--a good road leading to a town? Have you ever seen
one? A brown place, with hedges on each side, made hard and smooth for
horses to go upon, and wheels that make a rumble. Well, if you will
have me, and behave well to me, you shall sit up by yourself in a velvet
dress, with a man before you and a man behind, and believe that you