They thought longingly of the excursions and picnics, the drives, and the free happy days in the open that they might have had.
"I do think it is so silly," cried Betty, "to have one's meals always at the same time, sitting around a table in a room in a house, when one can enjoy them _ever_ so much more if they come at all sorts of times, and in all sorts of places." "Oh, but it wouldn't be right to have them like that often," said Anna primly.

"You would have indigestion if you didn't have your meals at regular hours." Anna was always full of ideas as to what was right and good for her health.
"I didn't know I had an indigestion," said Betty shortly, with a toss of her head, "and you wouldn't either, Anna, if you didn't think so much about it." Which was truer than Betty imagined.

"I think it is a pity you talk so much about such things." In September Dan went off to school.

He was very homesick and not at all happy when the last day came--a fact which consoled Kitty somewhat for all the pleasure and excitement he had shown up to that point.
"If it hadn't been for Aunt Pike and Anna I believe he would have been frightfully sorry all the time," she told herself, "instead of seeming as though he was quite glad to go." "You'll--you'll write to a fellow pretty often, won't you, Kit ?" he asked, coming into her room for about the fiftieth time, and wandering about it irresolutely.

He spoke in an off-hand manner, and made a show of looking over her bookshelves whilst he was speaking.