Here, Katie, if you'll promise
not to cry, you may get into the middle, between Hattie and me, then
you'll be very close to darling Prissie."
Katie was the youngest of the three occupants of the bed; she was
about eight years old; her small face was delicate in its outline, her
mouth peevish; she did not look a strong child, and self-control could
scarcely be expected of her.
Priscilla placed her candle on the chimney-piece, jumped on the bed
according to orders and looked earnestly at her three small sisters.
"Now, Prissie," said Hattie in the important little voice which she
always used, "begin, go on-- tell us all about your grand college
life."
"How can I, Hattie, when I don't know what to say. I can't guess what
I am to do at college."
"Oh, dear," sighed Rose, "I only wish I were the one to go! It will be
very dull living with Aunt Raby when you are away, Priscilla. She
won't let us take long walks, and if ever we go in for a real, jolly
lark we are sure to be punished. Oh, dear, oh, dear!"
"Even though it is for your good, I wish with all my heart you were
not going away, Prissie," said Hattie in her blunt fashion.
Katie burst into sudden loud wails.
Priscilla colored. Then she spoke with firmness.
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