But she said she'd do something to get even with you." "With me?
Why, she doesn't know me at all." "That's what she's mad about.

She says you're stuck up, and you put on airs and never look at her." "Why, how silly! I don't know her, but somehow, from her looks, I _know_ I shouldn't like her." "No, you wouldn't, Marjorie.

She's selfish, and she's ill-tempered.

She flies into a rage at any little thing, and,--well, she isn't a bit like you Maynards." "_No!_ and I'm glad of it! I wouldn't _want_ to be like such a stuck-up thing!" These last words were spoken by a strange voice, and Marjorie looked round quickly to see a shock of red hair surmounting a very angry little face just appearing from behind the small hill, beneath whose overhanging shadow they had built their palace.
"Why, Hester Corey!" shouted Tom.

"What are you doing here ?" "I came to see how you like your old sand-house!" she jeered, mockingly, and making faces at Marjorie between her words.