"At all events he's been mighty careful since how he gratified my wishes.

Sometimes I believe he perfectly hates me, and wishes I'd never been born," and tears, which arose from anger, rather than any wounded sisterly feeling, glittered in 'Lina's black eyes.
"Hugh does not hate any one," said Mrs.Worthington, "much less his sister, though you must admit that you try him terribly." "How, I'd like to know ?" 'Lina asked, and her mother replied: "He thinks you proud, and vain, and artificial, and you know he abhors deceit above all else.

Why, he'd cut off his right hand sooner than tell a lie." "Pshaw!" was 'Lina's contemptuous response, then after a moment she continued: "I wonder how we came to be so different.

He must be like his father, and I like mine--that is, supposing I know who he is.

Wouldn't it be funny if, just to be hateful, he had sent you back the wrong child ?" "What made you think of that ?" Mrs.Worthington asked, quickly, and 'Lina replied: "Oh, nothing, only the last time Hugh had one of his tantrums, and got so outrageously angry at me, because I made Mr.Bostwick think my hair was naturally curly, he said he'd give all he owned if it were so, but I reckon he'll never have his wish.