‘There, that will do. I knew you would be good at last,’ said Percy, patting her shoulder, while Theodora signified her pardon, and they turned homewards, but had made only a few steps before the gallop of clumsy shoes followed, and there stood Ellen, awkwardly presenting a bunch of the willow herb. Theodora gave well-pleased thanks, and told her she should take them as a sign she was really sorry and meant to do better.
‘And as a trophy of the force of Percy’s pathetic picture of Miss Martindale’s seven flounces among the nettles on Farmer Middleton’s tombstone,’ said Arthur.
‘You certainly are very much obliged to him,’ said her father.
‘And most ungratefully she won’t confess it,’ said Arthur.
‘I despise coaxing,’ said Theodora.
‘The question is, what you would have done without it,’ said John.
‘As if I could not subdue a little sprite like that!’
‘You certainly might if it was a question of physical force,’ said Percy, as he seemed to be measuring with his eye the strength of Theodora’s tall vigorous person.
‘I spoke of moral force.’
‘There the sprite had decidedly the advantage. You could “gar her greet,” but you could not “gar her know.” She had only to hold out; and when Miss Martindale found it time to go home to dinner, and began to grow ashamed of her position, the victory was hers.’