Only I get all mixed up so, lately, and I said so, and I guess I cried some more.
Mother jumped up then, and said, "Tut, tut," what was she thinking of to talk like this when it couldn't do a bit of good, but only made matters worse.

And she said that only went to prove how she was still keeping on tarnishing my happiness and bringing tears to my bright eyes, when certainly nothing of the whole wretched business was my fault.
She thrust the dress back into the trunk then, and shut the lid.

Then she took me downstairs and bathed my eyes and face with cold water, and hers, too.

And _she_ began to talk and laugh and tell stories, and be gayer and jollier than I'd seen her for ever so long.

And she was that way at dinner, too, until Grandfather happened to mention the reception to-morrow night, and ask if she was going.
She flushed up red then, oh, so red! and said, "Certainly not." Then she added quick, with a funny little drawing-in of her breath, that she should let Marie go, though, with her Aunt Hattie.
There was an awful fuss then.