It was at "very stormy," and no mistake.
"I am wet through," said Kitty brightly, hoping to smooth away the frown; "but oh it was grand to see the storm across the downs.
I did enjoy it." But Emily was not to be cajoled into taking an interest in anything.
"I'm glad somebody's been able to enjoy themselves," she said pertly, and walked away down the stairs.
Poor Kitty's brightness vanished.

Was there never to be anything but worry and unpleasantness?
All her excitement, and interest, and hopefulness evaporated, leaving her depressed and dispirited.
The memory rushed over her of former home-comings, before the dear mother died; the orderly comfort, the cheerfulness and joy which seemed always to be a part of the house in those days; and her eyes grew misty with the ache and loneliness of her heart, and the sense of failure which weighed her down.

There rose before her that dear, happy face, with the bright smile and the ready interest that had never failed her.
"O mother, mother," she cried, "I want you so, I want you so! Everything is wrong, and I can't get them right.

I am no use to any one, and I--I don't know how to do better." The hot tears were brimming up and just about to fall over, when flying footsteps sounded on the stairs--Betty's footsteps.

Kitty closed the door of her room, though she knew it was of no use.