It was Betty's room too, and nothing, certainly not a mere hint, could keep Betty out; and she sighed, as she had often sighed before, for a room of her very own, for some place where she could be alone sometimes to think, or read, or make plans, or hide when the old heartache became too much for her.
But Betty shared her room, and Betty had every right to walk in, and Betty did so.

She was quiet, and vouchsafed no account of her doings, but she was quite calm and unperturbed.
"What has made Emily in such a bad temper ?" asked Kitty wearily.
"Emily always is in a bad temper, isn't she ?" asked Betty placidly.
"I don't take any notice of her." Then with some slight interest, "What did she say to you ?" "She didn't _say_ anything," answered Kitty, "but she looked temper, and walked temper, and breathed temper.

Have you got a nice supper for us?
I am starving, and I am sure father must be." Betty did not answer enthusiastically; in fact, she gave no real answer at all, but merely remarked in an off-hand manner, "I shouldn't have thought any one could want much to eat in this weather." "Is it ready ?" "I don't know." "Well, will you go down and see, and tell them to take it in at once if they haven't done so?
I know father wants his supper." "I--think," said Betty thoughtfully, "-- p'r'aps you had better go yourself.

Fanny said--Fanny's manners are awful; I think father ought to send them both away--" "What did Fanny say ?" "Fanny told me--well, she said she would rather I--didn't go into the kitchen again--yet." Kitty groaned.

"What have you done to vex them both so, Betty ?" "I only tried to see that the table was nicely laid, and everything just as you told me; and because I took out all the glasses and told Emily they were dirty, she got as cross as anything; and they really were dirty, for I showed her all the finger-marks, so it wasn't as if I was complaining about nothing.