to be pitied. Then another thought
struck her: "If Aunt Hannah's your aunt as well as mine, I suppose we're
cousins--ain't we?" she asked.

"She isn't," said Sophia Jane, swinging her arms round and preparing to
jump off the box. "We all call her Aunt. She likes it better. See if
you can jump as far as I can."

In these and other amusements the morning passed quickly away in a very
different manner to anything Susan had known before. It was certainly
better than playing alone, though the attic was bare and Sophia Jane's
speech and behaviour were sometimes strange and startling. Susan almost
forgot her home-sickness for a while, and found a companion of her own
age far more interesting than imaginary conversations with dolls. After
they were both tired of jumping, in which exercise Sophia Jane's spare
form was by far the most successful, the headless body of the murdered
doll was dragged out from behind a box and examined.

"She _used_ to be a pretty doll," said its owner, looking enviously at
Grace.

"It's a pity you killed her," said Susan, "because we could play at so
many more things if we had a doll each."

"Well, she's dead," said Sophia Jane recklessly. "Where's her head?"
asked Susan; "perhaps we might mend it."

"Broken all up into tiny little bits," said the other.

Susan looked silently at the limp pink leather body stretched out on the
floor, then she exclaimed suddenly:

"I tell you what!"

"What?" said Sophia Jane.

"We'll get a new head for her at the shop. I know you can do it,
because Maria once bought one for one of mine."

"That's all very well," said Sophia Jane sharply; "but I haven't got
enough money. I've only got twopence-halfpenny left."

"Oh, that wouldn't do, of course," said Susan. "You couldn't get one
large enough for the body under eighteenpence. When will you have some
more?"

"Not till Saturday week, because I've lost all the next in bad marks."

"What do you have bad marks for?" asked Susan.

"Lots of things: rumpling my pinafores, leaving the door open, standing
on one side of my foot, making faces, not knowing my lessons--a farthing
every time."

Susan's eyes opened wide.

"Why don't you leave off doing them?" she asked.

"Oh, I don't care to," said Sophia Jane; pressing her lips tightly
together. "I like to vex 'em sometimes. I'd rather do it than have the
money."

Susan's round face grew more and more serious. She did not know what to
make of