‘It stands to reason,’ Ida said, almost crying, ‘when uncle takes her about to all these fine places and sets her up to be the favourite—just the youngest. It’s not fair.’
‘As if she wasn’t by a long chalk the better of the two,’ said Herbert.
‘Now, Bertie,’ interposed his mother, ‘I’ll not have you teasing and running down your sister, though I do say it is a shame and a slight to pick out the youngest, when poor Ida is so delicate, and both of you two have ever so much better a right to favours.’
‘That’s a good one!’ muttered Herbert, while Ida exclaimed—
‘Of course, you know, aunt has always been nasty to me, ever since I said ma said I was not strong enough to be bothered with that horrid school; and as to poor Herbert, they have spited him because he shot that—’
‘Shut up, Ida,’ shouted Herbert. ‘I wouldn’t go with them if they went down on their knees to me! What should I do, loafing about among a
lot of disputing frog-eaters, without a word of a Christian language, and old Frank with his nose in a guide-book wanting me to look at beastly pictures and rum old cathedrals. You would be a fish out of water, too, Ida. Now Conny will take to it like a house afire, and what’s more, she deserves it!’
‘Well, ma,’ put in the provoked Ida, ‘I wonder you let Conny go, when it would do me so much good, and it is so unfair.’
‘My dear, you don’t understand a mother’s feelings. I feel the slight for you, but your uncle must be allowed to have his way. He is at all the expense, and to refuse for Conny would do you no good.’
‘Except that she will be more set up than ever,’ murmured Ida.