at this.

'How happy I am compared with her!' I went on, relapsing unconsciously
into my own voice. 'I am young and strong; I have all my life before me.
True, poor Ralph has gone, but I was only a child, and did not miss him.
I have a good father and an indulgent mother' ('Humph!' observed Jill at
this point, only she turned it into a cough); 'if my present schoolroom
life is not to my taste, I am sensible enough to know that the drudgery
and restraint will not last for long; in another year, or a year and a
half, Fraeulein, whom I certainly do not love, will go back to her own
country. I shall be free to read the books I like, to study what I
choose, or to be idle. I shall have Sara's cheerful companionship instead
of Fraeulein's heavy company; I shall ride; I shall walk in the sunshine;
I shall be a butterfly instead of a chrysalis; and if I care to be
useful, all sorts of paths will be open to me.'

'There, hold your tongue,' interrupted Jill, with a rough kiss; 'of
course I know I am a wicked, ungrateful wretch, and that I ought to be
more patient. Yes, you shall go, Ursula; you are a darling, but I will
not want to keep you; you are too good to be wasted on me; it would be
like pouring gold into a sieve. Well, I did cry about it this afternoon,
but I won't be such a goose any more. I will live my life the same way,
in spite of all of them, you will see if I don't, Ursula. Who is it who
says, "The thoughts of youth are long long thoughts"? I have such big
thoughts sometimes, especially when I sit in the dark. I send them out
like strange birds, all over the world,--up, up, everywhere,--but they
never come back to me again,' finished Jill mournfully; 'if they build
nests I never know it: I just sit and puzzle out things, like poor little
grimy Cinderella.'

Jill's eloquence did not surprise me. I knew she was very clever, and
full of unfledged poetry, and I had often heard her talk in that way; but
I had no time to answer her, for just then the first gong sounded, and I
could hear Sara running up to her room to dress for dinner. Jill jumped
up, and tugged at the bell-rope rather fiercely.

'Martha must have forgotten all about the tea-things; very likely the
lamp is smoky and will have to be trimmed. I must not come and help you,
Ursie dear, for I have to learn my German poetry before I dress.' And
Jill pulled down the blinds and drew the curtains with a vigorous hand.
Martha looked quite frightened at the sight