CHAPTER II.

The next day at noon Ally was on her way to Boston, where she was to live for the next six months in her uncle John’s family.  Both her uncle Tom and his wife, Aunt Ann, had gone to the station to see her off, and both of them had kissed her good-by, and given her various messages to deliver to the Boston relations.  Everything was going on as pleasantly as possible until Aunt Ann at the very last stooped down and said,—­

“Now, try, Ally, try while you are with your aunt Kate to control your temper.  You mustn’t fly up at every little thing, and expect to have your own way with everybody.  It is very difficult to live with people who act like that, and nobody can love them.  Remember that, Ally;” and with these words, Mrs. Fleming bent still lower to touch Ally’s lips with a final farewell kiss.  But Ally at this movement turned suddenly, and the kiss that was meant for her lips fell upon her cheek.

“Such an uncomfortable disposition as that child has, I never met before, never!” ejaculated Mrs. Fleming, as she joined her husband outside the car.

“What’s she done now?” asked Uncle Tom.

His wife described the girl’s swift evasive movement away from her.

Uncle Tom laughed, and then sighed.  “Poor little soul,” he said; “she’s going to have a hard time of it in life, I’m afraid.”

“She’s going to make those who live with her have a hard time,” answered Aunt Ann, resentfully thinking of her rejected kiss.

“‘Mustn’t fly up at every little thing!’” repeated Ally to herself, as she was left alone in her seat.  “She’d better give Florence some of her good advice.  She’d better tell her not to aggravate folks ’most to death, and then stand off so cool, and make everybody else seem in the wrong.  Hard to live with!  Mebbe I am hard to live with; but I don’t play double like that; and as for nobody’s loving me, these relations of mine never loved me—­any of ’em—­from the first.”

As Ally came to this conclusion in her thought, she happened to look out of the car window, and there, why, there was her aunt Ann and uncle Tom outside on the platform, standing at another car window farther down, talking and laughing in the liveliest manner with some friends they had met.  Uncle Tom didn’t seem in the least haste now, and ever so many minutes ago he had said to her, “Well, good-by, Ally!” and rushed off as if there wasn’t another minute to spare,—­not another minute; and here was a gentleman in front of her, saying to a friend of his at that very instant, “There’s plenty of time; it’s ten minutes before the cars start;” and then she heard a lady say to another lady, “There’s no need of my leaving you yet; we’ve got oceans of time;” and all about her, Ally now noticed various groups of friends and relations lingering lovingly together until the last moment; and noting all this, a bitter little look came into Miss Ally’s face, and a bitter little thought came into her heart,—­a thought that said tauntingly, “There, this shows you, Ally Fleming, what kind of relations you’ve got; this shows you how much they care for you!”