And I wondered, if I died if anybody would care; and I thought how beautiful and pathetic I would look in my coffin with my lily-white hands folded on my breast.
And I _hoped_ they 'd have the funeral in the daytime, because if it was at night-time Father'd be sure to have a star or something to keep _him_ from coming.

And I _wanted_ him to come.

I _wanted_ him to feel bad; and I meditated on how bad he would feel--when it was too late.
But even with all this to meditate on, it was an awfully long time coming noon; and they didn't call me down to dinner even then.

Aunt Jane sent up two pieces of bread without any butter and a glass of water.

How like Aunt Jane--making even my dinner a sin to meditate on! Only she would call it _my_ sin, and I would call it hers.
Well, after dinner Father sent for me to come down to the library.