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Meade, L. T., 1854-1914

"Wild Kitty"

For a moment every nerve
seemed paralyzed, her face became crimson, her eyes filled with ready
tears, she looked down, the great tears splashed upon the desk before
her. At that instant she encountered the vindictive and delighted
glance of Alice Denvers.
Kitty had confided all her trouble to Alice on the previous night, and
Alice at the time had pretended to give a little sympathy; but where was
her sympathy now?
"I hate her," thought the Irish girl. "No one else would be glad to see
me so miserable."
"You have something to say to me, have you not, Miss Malone?" said Miss
Worrick in her stiff, precise voice.
Kitty staggered to her feet.
"I don't want to say it a bit," she grumbled.
"Come forward, my dear; come forward."
Kitty left the protection of her desk, and staggered across the room.
Miss Worrick had mounted a little platform, all the other teachers stood
waiting, and the girls waited also. Kitty looked round, the eyes in each
face seemed multiplied fourfold--the room seemed to be all eyes. She
longed for the mountains, for her father, for Laurie, for the old home.
She hated the school, she hated England. Why was she to be publicly
disgraced?
"Oh, it is very wrong indeed to ask me to do it," she cried. Then the
following words rushed out: "Miss Worrick, I am sorry I disobeyed you
yesterday, and I'll stay in class to-day.


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