he opposite side, was Cliff Cottage. It could be just seen from granny's
new home. How small and strange it all looked, thought Mona, and how
narrow the hill was, but how homelike and beautiful.

While she gazed out Millie Higgins and Philippa Luxmore appeared, they
were coming down the hill together. Millie had on a pink dress almost
exactly like Mona's.

"Why--why, she's copied me!" thought Mona indignantly, a wave of hot anger
surging up in her heart. "She's a regular copy-cat! She can't think of a
thing for herself, but directly anyone else has it, she must go and copy
them. I'd be ashamed if I was her. Now I shan't like my pink frock any
more!"

As though attracted by the gaze on her, Millie looked up at the window,
and straight into Mona's eyes, but instead of feeling any shame, she only
laughed. She may not have remembered her own frock, or Mona's, she was
probably not laughing at Mona's annoyance, it is very likely that she was
amused at something she and Philippa were talking about, but Mona thought
otherwise, and only glared back at her with angry, contemptuous eyes.
She saw Millie's face change, and saw her whisper in Philippa's ear,
then she heard them both laugh, and her heart was fuller than ever of
hatred, and mortification. Mortification with herself partly, for
allowing Millie to see that she was vexed.

Oh, how she wished now, that instead of letting Millie see how she had
annoyed her, she had acted as though she did not notice, or did not mind.

"Mona, give me a hand here a minute, will you?" Her father's voice broke
in on her musings, "that rope is caught round the bedpost."

Mona went over, and released the rope, but returned again to the window.

"If you don't bustle round, little maid, we shall never be done," said her
father. "I want to get it all as right as I can before I go, or your
grand-mother'll be doing it herself, and making herself ill again.
You can look out of window another day, there'll be plenty of time for
that."

"I'm tired," grumbled Mona sulkily, "I can't be always working."

Her father straightened his back, and looked at her. His eyes were
reproachful and grieved. Mona's own eyes fell before them. Already she
was sorry that she had spoken so. She did not feel in the least as she
had said she did. She was put out about Millie, and Millie's frock, that
was all.

"Mona, my girl," he said gravely, "you put me in mind of a weather-cock in
a shifty wind.