But if Flo had been fretful before, it was nothing to her crossness now. Nothing pleased her; the book was stupid, the room was too hot, Hetty was unkind; she cried every minute, and finally burst into a howl, declaring that "she was too miserable to be good." Her cries awoke the baby, who promptly added his voice to the uproar, and Hetty was fairly at her wits' end, when a knock at the door announced the return of the expedition to B— and silenced Flo.
"Oh, ma'am, I am glad you are come, for I'm half afraid that Miss Flo is ill. I never saw her like this before."
"Does she complain of any pain?"
"No, ma'am; but she's very restless. She was crying out loud just now, but when you knocked she stopped."
"I heard crying, but I thought it was the baby."
"'Twas both, ma'am; but when she left off, so did he."
"I'm afraid you've been frightened, Hetty. I hope there's nothing much the matter. Flo has been rather cross all day. Run up, children, and Hetty will take your things off."
She herself walked into the parlour, to see after Flo. The child was very white, wearied out with crying. As soon as she saw her mother, she said, "Don't kiss me, mamma, I've been bad."
"But, my wee woman, I kiss you because I love you."
"You would not kiss me if you knew how bad I've been."