‘That is not for you to judge, in the first place; and in the next, she acts justly. I feel it. Yes, Sarah, I do; I have not done my duty by you, and have quarrelled with you when your industry shamed me. All my old bad habits are come back, and your mother is right to part with me.’
‘There! there, mamma; do you hear that?’ sobbed Sarah, imploringly. ‘When she speaks in that way, can you still—? Oh! I know I was disrespectful, but you can’t—you can’t think that was her fault!’
‘It was,’ said Lucilla, looking at Mrs. Prendergast. ‘I know she has lost the self-control she once had. Sarah, this is of no use. I would go now, if your mother begged me to stay—and that,’ she added, with her firm smile, ‘she is too wise to do. If you do not wish to pain me, and put me to shame, do not let me have any more such exhibitions.’
Pale, ashamed, discomfited, Sarah turned away, and not yet able to govern herself, rushed into her room.
‘Poor Sarah!’ said her mother. ‘You have rare powers of making your pupils love you, Miss Sandbrook.’
‘If it were for their good,’ sighed Lucilla.
‘It has been much for her good; she is far less uncouth, and less exclusive. And it will be more so, I hope. You will still be her friend, and we shall often see you here.’
Lucilla’s tears were dropping fast; and looking up, she said with difficulty—‘Don’t mind this; I know it is right; I have not deserved the happy home you have given me here. Where I am less happy, I hope I may keep a better guard on myself. I thought the old ways had been destroyed, but they are too strong still, and I ought to suffer for them.’
Never in all her days had Lucilla spoken so humbly!