“What may seem nonsense to you is not the same to her. You must be forbearing, Ethel. Remember that dependence is prone to morbid sensitiveness, especially in those who have a humble estimate of themselves.”
“It seems to me that touchiness is more pride than humility,” said Ethel, whose temper, already not in the smoothest state, found it hard that, after having long borne patiently with these constant arguments, she should find Miss Bracy made the chief object of compassion.
Dr. May’s chivalrous feeling caused him to take the part of the weak, and he answered, “You know nothing about it. Among our own kith and kin we can afford to pass over slights, because we are sure the heart is right—we do not know what it is to be among strangers, uncertain of any claim to their esteem or kindness. Sad! sad!” he continued, as the picture wrought on him. “Each trifle seems a token one way or the other! I am very sorry I grieved the poor thing yesterday. I must go and tell her so at once.”
He put Ethel aside, and knocked at the schoolroom door, while Ethel stood, mortified. “He thinks I have been neglecting, or speaking harshly to her! For fifty times that I have borne with her maundering, I have, at last, once told her the truth; and for that I am accused of want of forbearance! Now he will go and make much of her, and pity her, till she will think herself an injured heroine, and be worse than ever; and he will do away with all the good of my advice, and want me to ask her pardon for it—but that I never will. It was only the truth, and I will stick to it.”
“Ethel!” cried Mary, running up to her, then slackening her pace, and whispering, “you did not tell Miss Bracy she was ill-tempered.”
“No—not exactly. How could you tell papa I did?”
“She said so. She was crying, and I asked what was the matter, and she said my sister Ethel said she was ill-tempered.”
“She made a great exaggeration then,” said Ethel.
“I am sure she was very cross all day,” said Mary.
“Well, that is no business of yours,” said Ethel pettishly. “What now? Mary, don’t look out at the street window.”