I was so proud of it, Davy's first letter, that I passed it around for the girls to see.

Lloyd and Joyce were interested and amused, and laughed as I had done over the dear crooked letters; but Eugenia was in one of her high and mighty moods, and she only lifted those black eyebrows in that indifferent way of hers, and tossed it back.
"What awfully queer letter-paper," she said.

"_Ruled!_ I didn't know that anybody ever wrote on ruled paper nowadays, but servants.

Eliot always does, but it's so common to use it, you know." I could hardly keep the tears back to have her make fun of poor little Davy's letter.

For a few minutes I was so homesick that I wished I was back with Davy in the plain old farmhouse, where it doesn't make any difference whether there are lines on your paper or not, or any such silly things as that.