She dropped my hand.
"The very image of him," said she, turning to my mother.
"Yes, she is very like her father," agreed the mother.
"Why, my dear, the very image of him," repeated the aggravating creature. "Got his temper too?" asked she, turning to me again.
"I don't know, ma'am, I'm sure," answered I, half amused, but still more annoyed. "I dare say."
"Oh, I'll be bound you have, and proud of it too," declared she, shaking her head emphatically. "Girls are always proud to be like their fathers."
"I don't suppose it'll make any very particular difference who I'm like," said I. "Things will happen just the same, I expect."
Miss Farnham laughed and patted me boisterously on the back.
I do not think she was an ill-natured woman, although she certainly had the talent of making one feel very uncomfortable.