Ghuldasta could not see the look of sorrow on the face of her guardian, any more than she could behold the love and pity in her heart; the girl only heard that the sound of the voice was angry, and felt that the grasp of the hand was a tight one.
“Wrench yourself away!” cried Self-will.
“How can she speak in so harsh a tone? How dare she call you wretched and blind?” exclaimed Pride.
Ghuldasta was not strong enough to wrench herself away; but as soon as the lady had drawn her back through the gap in the fence, the girl flung herself on the ground in a terribly sulky fit. She would scarcely listen to the lady’s earnest words of warning.
“How unkind she is!” cried Self-will.
“How unjust she is!” muttered Pride.
It is sad to relate how completely these evil spirits held Ghuldasta in subjection. The girl was in a fit of ill-humour, and showed it in every way that she possibly could. She would not eat, she would not work; she behaved as if she thought that her tender friend had done her a cruel wrong in drawing her back from a perilous path. Ghuldasta was miserable herself, and tried to make all around her unhappy also. And yet this girl never looked upon herself as a grievous sinner. She had not anointed her eyes with the precious ointment contained in the ivory box.
“What shall I do?” thought Ashley Sahiba: “how shall I prevent my wilful, blind lamb from wandering in ways of destruction? She has broken down part of the fence; we cannot, with so many other children to care for, watch her night and day. I dread lest she should again attempt to escape and wander on the mountains, where there are precipices and rushing torrents, and where wild beasts roam about seeking for prey.”
After anxious thought Ashley Sahiba had the gap in the fence filled up by a quantity of sharp prickly thorns of which the name is Punishment. “Now I trust that my child will be safe,” thought she.