The Watch-Pocket finished.
“Well, Jessie, how do you like your black-eyed protégé?” asked Uncle Morris, a few days after the events recorded in the last chapter.
“Pretty—well—but—but—”
“But what?” said Uncle Morris, with an arch glance, for he saw that Jessie was loth to speak the thought that lingered in her mind.
“Well, I like Madge, Uncle, but as ma says, she is not quite an angel,” and Jessie laughed as if there was something funny in her mother’s saying.
“I suppose she is not. Did my puss ever hear of angels being found, as we found Madge, dressed in rags, and shivering under a stone wall?”
“No, uncle, but, but—”
“There you are but-ing again,” said Mr. Morris. “Why not out with it at once, and say that you did not expect to find so many faults in poor Madge, as you have found?”
“Because I don’t like to speak evil of her, and yet I do wish she wouldn’t have those ugly spells come over her. Sometimes she is so gentle and grateful, that I begin to love her dearly. Then all at once, she will be so cross and ugly, that I begin to repent having asked you to bring her home with us.”
Mr. Morris looked at his perplexed niece in silence for nearly a minute. He was thinking how to impress her mind with the moral taught by her disappointment respecting Madge. At last he very gravely said: