She had enjoyed it when a little girl because she had been told it was unladylike; kept it up to find out if it were really true that it would spoil her mouth, and now liked doing it because she could do it so successfully.
She was still whistling herself back to familiar things as she ran lightly up the stairs; had warmed to a long final trill as she stood in the doorway.

The girl looked up in amazement.

She had been sitting there, elbows on her knees, face in her hands.

It was hard to see what might have been seen in her face because at that moment the chief thing seen was astonishment.

Katie slipped down among the pillows of the couch, an arm curled about her head.