"You're a naughty impertinent boy," said she; "and I shall tell my grandfather how you behave."
I half thought she would have cried and struggled to get the key; but she didn't. She held up her head like a little queen, and turned her back upon me.
"I'll open the door in a minute, if you'll just give me that catseye," said I.
"No!" said she. "I'm going to keep it."
I thought I'd make one more try. "Miss Adela," I said, for I knew her name already, "you told me a nice story just now about the soldier and the duke. If I let you take away that catseye, shouldn't I be like the soldier disobeying his orders, and letting the duke go in?"
"Well, and I think he ought to have let the duke go in," said she. "He was a rude impertinent soldier to keep the duke out; and if I was the duke, I would be very angry. I think it's a stupid story, and I don't know why I told it to you."
Then she pulled my chair round, with its back to where I was; and she seated herself on it, with her pretty arms folded, and the catseye clasped tight in one little hand.