Belle saw it, and rushed to the rescue with more good-will than wisdom.
"Nobody ever accused you of having any heart to ache with.

Polly and I are not old enough yet to get tough and cool, and we are still silly enough to pity unhappy people, Tom Shaw especially," added Belle, under her breath.
That was a two-edged thrust, for Trix was decidedly an old girl, and Tom was generally regarded as a hapless victim.

Trix turned red; but before she could load and fire again, Emma Davenport, who labored under the delusion that this sort of skirmishing was ill-natured, and therefore ill-bred, spoke up in her pleasant way, "Speaking of pitying the poor, I always wonder why it is that we all like to read and cry over their troubles in books, but when we have the real thing before us, we think it is uninteresting and disagreeable." "It 's the genius that gets into the books, which makes us like the poverty, I fancy.

But I don't quite agree that the real thing is n't interesting.

I think it would be, if we knew how to look at and feel it," said Polly, very quietly, as she pushed her chair out of the arctic circle of Miss Perkins, into the temperate one of friendly Emma.
"But how shall we learn that?
I don't see what we girls can do, more than we do now.