"Bess wouldn't bear a rival. ” Cathy insisted. "The pocket-book you prigged contained the letters I wanted. The first Step towards the Ladder VII. A new thought checked her steps and she froze. With a little sigh of happiness she accepted this new thing. It was a charming sight to watch the motions of her tiny fingers as she pursued her task; and though the posture she adopted was not the most favourable that might have been chosen for the display of her sylphlike figure, there was something in her attitude, and the glow of her countenance, lighted up by the mellow radiance of the setting sun falling upon her through the panes of the little dormer-window, that seemed to the youth inexpressibly beautiful. Her breath came fast in little sobbing pants. She calls us her guests, but in reality we are her prisoners.
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