“Very well, Grandmother. And I like the girls, all of them.”
Breakfast over, Blue Bonnet went upstairs to put her room in order. It was a task for which habit was by no means bringing any liking, and which had frequently to be done over. To-day, however, bureau drawers were closed, rugs straightened, and the bedclothes put on most carefully. Aunt Lucinda should find nothing to complain of that morning.
Miss Clyde, glancing in a little later, gave a nod of satisfaction; if only Elizabeth would do her best every day. “Your room looks very nice, Elizabeth,” she said, as Blue Bonnet came to do her Latin.
“Yes, Aunt Lucinda,” the girl said; “are you ready now?”
Altogether, Miss Clyde felt greatly encouraged that morning; but Blue Bonnet’s grandmother, watching the sober face bent over her book, sighed softly.
“Lucinda,” she asked, when Blue Bonnet had left the room, “what have you been doing to Elizabeth?—she is not the same child this morning.”
“I spoke very plainly to her last night about her behavior yesterday afternoon. I am glad to see that it has taken effect.”
“I imagine Elizabeth has not been used to plain speaking.”
“Probably not. She has been spoiled outrageously.”
“I do not think the spoiling has gone very deep. Gentleness and patience will do much towards eradicating it, I believe. We must remember how irregular the child’s upbringing has been for the past ten years.”