"'Then, mamma, I will just get my work-basket, and sit here, as

still as a mouse, and prevent all disturbance.' "With that, she gets out her miniature thimble and scissors, and

falls to work upon a pair of slippers she was embroidering for her

father's birthday present, sitting up, starched and prim as an old

maid, her lips pursed, and her forehead gravely consequential. I

could not close my eyes without seeing her still, like an undersized

nightmare, her hair smooth to the least hair, her dress neat to the

smallest fold, stitching, stitching, the affected, conceited

marmoset!

"At last I said: "'Put down your sewing, Florence, and look out of the window at the

people going by. You must be very tired.' "'Not in the least, mamma, dear,' answered Miss Pert. 'I like to

work, and there is nothing interesting going on outside.' "I tossed and sighed, and she was by me in a second.

"'Darling mamma! my poor, sweet little mother!' in her reed-like

chirp; 'can I do nothing to make you feel better?' putting her hands

upon my head and stroking my face until my flesh crawled.

"'Yes,' said I, out of all patience. 'Take yourself off, and don't

let me see you again until to-morrow morning! You kill me with your

teasing.' "And would you believe it? she just put up her sewing in the basket

and went directly out, without a tear or a murmur, and when her

father came home he could not prevail upon her, by commands or

persuasions, to accompany him further than the door of my chamber.

So he, who won't admit that she can do anything wrong, instead of

whipping her for her obstinacy, as he ought to have done, guessed

she 'had some reason' for her disobedience which she did not like to

tell, and interrogated poor, persecuted me. When he had heard my

version of the manner in which we had spent the afternoon, he only

said, 'I should have foreseen this. But the child--she is only a

child, Rosa!--did her best!' and he looked so mournful that I,

knowing he blamed me for his bantling's freak of temper, told him

plainly that he cared a thousand times more for this diminutive

bundle of hypocrisy than he ever did for me, and that his absurd

favoritism was fast begetting in me a positive dislike for her. I

couldn't endure the sight of the sulky little mischief-maker for a

week after her complaint of barbarity had brought the look into his

face I knew so well."




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024