you very much," said
Phronsie gravely, trying not to hit the arm in the sling, while Alexia
flew up to her feet and whirled around the room with her. "And, oh, I'm
so afraid you'll make it sick," she panted. "Do stop."

"I just can't, Phronsie," said Alexia; "I shall die if I don't do
something! Oh, this horrid old arm!" and she came to a sudden
standstill, Phronsie struggling away to a safe distance.

"Papa Fisher would not like it, Alexia," she said in great disapproval,
her hair blown about her face, and her cheeks quite pink.

"Oh dear me!" Alexia, resting the sling in the other palm, and trying
not to scream with the pain, burst out, "It's so tiresome to be always
thinking that some one won't like things one does. Phronsie, there's no
use in my trying to be good, because, you see, I never could be. I just
love to do bad things."

"Oh no, Alexia," said Phronsie greatly shocked, "you don't love to do
bad things. Please say you don't;" and before Alexia could say another
word, the tears poured down the round cheeks, wetting Phronsie's
pinafore. And although she clasped her hands and tried to stop them, it
was no use.

"There now, you see," cried Alexia, quite gone in remorse. "Oh, what
shall I do? I must go and get Mrs. Fisher," and she rushed out of the
room.

Phronsie ran unsteadily after her, to call, "Oh Alexia!" in such
distress that the flying feet turned, and up she came again.

"What is it, Pet?" she cried. "Oh dear me! What shall I do? I must tell
your mother."

"I will stop," said Phronsie, struggling hard with her tears, "if you
only won't tell Mamsie," and she wiped her cheeks hard with her
pinafore. "There, see, Alexia," and tried to smile.

"Well, now, come back." Alexia seized her hand, and dragged her up the
stairs. "Now I'm just going to stay up here with you, if you'll let me,
Phronsie, and try not to do bad things. I do so want to be good like
Polly. You can't think how I want to," she cried in a gust, as she threw
herself down on the floor again.

"Oh Alexia, you never could be good like Polly," said Phronsie, standing
quite still in astonishment.

"Of course not," said Alexia with a little laugh, "but I mean--oh, you
know what I mean, Phronsie. I want to be good so that Polly will say she
likes it. Well, come on now, get your horrible old--I mean, your dolls,
and--"

"I wish very much you wouldn't call them dolls, Alexia," said Phronsie,
not offering to sit down; "they are my chil