“I don’t care,” murmured Jennie, shutting her eyes slowly.
“Very well then;” and Lillie went down stairs, in a state of great indignation, to report to Miss Lane.
“Jennie says she don’t care, and is going to sleep again,” she exclaimed, not without a little triumph at her own superior goodness in her tone, and waiting to hear her teacher’s comment upon such unprecedented conduct. But Lillie was disappointed; neither frown nor flush changed the fairness of her face.
“Very well,” she said, in a quiet voice, looking at the child steadily, showing that she read her thought, and calling a blush of consciousness and shame to her cheek.
About an hour afterwards, Jennie, coming down, found some bread and butter and a glass of milk on the dining-room table for her. She rang the bell impatiently, and Sallie presently appeared.
“Sallie, I want some muffins. Did you save any for me?”
Sallie closed the door carefully, and coming near her, said in a half whisper,
“Miss Lane said you were to have only this; but I saved you some hot muffins and a piece of steak. I’ll bring ’em in.”
And she did so accordingly.
“I suppose,” exclaimed Jennie, her face in a blaze, “I’ll eat what I please in my own father’s house. If she thinks she’s mistress here, she’ll see she’s mistaken. Dear me!”