Matilda totally disagreed.
"There you are quite wrong. Why, look at Gladys! Bob treats her anyhow sometimes of a Sunday, and her as good as gold."
"Well, she has made him think that he can by not stopping it in the beginning. It is never a question of goodness as I often tell you about things, it is a question of force. Goodness does not count unless it is so perfect that it is a force, too—like Christ's."
"Oh, my! What awful things you do say, Katherine!"
Matilda felt so uncomfortable when her sister spoke of what she thought ought only to be mentioned in church!
"No, I merely tell the truth, it is the weaklings who do all the harm in the world, never the bad or good."
"Well, what was Lady Garribardine like?" Matilda was tired of abstract speculations.
"She was tall and rather stout, and had a golden wig—and black eyes—and she understood things. She knows how to order her house, because the servants had the same awe for her as the office-boy has for Liv. Her writing-table was awfully untidy, though. I expect she has not much method, and it is just personality and temper which causes her to be obeyed."
"You won't stand being ordered about ever, Kitten?"
"It will depend on how much good I feel I am getting out of it. If the place and people in it are being lessons for me, I shan't mind what she says—I shall stick it out and try never really to deserve a scolding."