But, oh, the groanings and the sighings that
there are over me! I don't think it is pleasant to know that your best
friends are thinking such awful things about you, when you are working
your fingers off to help them. It is kind o' discouraging, but I don't
know what to do about it";--and for a few moments Cerinthy sat
demolishing buttercups, and throwing them up in the air till her shiny
black head was covered with golden flakes, while her cheeks grew redder
with something that she was going to say next.
"Now, Mary, there is _that creature_. Well, you know, he won't take
'_No_' for an answer. What shall I do?"
"Suppose, then, you try '_Yes_,'" said Mary, rather archly.
"Oh, pshaw! Mary Scudder, you know better than that, now. I look like
it, don't I?"
"Why, yes," said Mary, looking at Cerinthy, deliberately; "on the
whole, I think you do."
"Well! one thing I must say," said Cerinthy,--"I can't see what _he_
finds in me. I think he is a thousand times too good for me. Why, you
have no idea, Mary, how I _have_ plagued him. I believe that man
_really is a Christian_," she added, while something like a penitent
tear actually glistened in those sharp, saucy, black eyes. "Besides,"
she added, "I have told him everything I could think of to discourage
him.
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