They're all too stingy--to--to--buy things--they're too stingy.

I--I--I--don't care," she went on fairly in hysterics, "he says I can't--I can't--keep--keep--a secret--but I've got one and I won't tell it to anybody and I thought it up all myself and it will surely make lots and lots and lots of people come and buy--and--and he'll see if girls can do things." She was crying violently and shaking like a leaf.
"What is the secret, Pepsy ?" Aunt Jamsiah asked gently; "maybe I can help you." "I won't tell--I won't tell anybody," Pepsy sobbed.
They were accustomed to these outbursts of her tense little nature and said no more.

Pepsy went up to her little room under the eaves, catching each breath and trembling.

No wonder they had not understood her at that big brick orphan home.

No wonder she had hated it.