“But ’ee ought to, darling. ’Ee’s a little lady, and ’ee ought to be trained up as such.”
“But I don’t want to be, Granny Lindsay! I want to stay home with dee-ar Marcel and you and David Lindsay!” sadly persisted the child.
“’Ee must subject ’eeself to ’ee pastors and masters, little lady. They do all for ’ee own good.”
“Aunt Agrippina says that I am a countess, Granny Lindsay; but I know I am not. I am worse at counting than at anything else. I never could learn the multiplication table,” said the child, with a look of perplexity and vexation.
“So much the more reason for ’ee to go to school, my little lady! Now sit ’ee up to table and have some dinner.”
Little Glo’ soon forgot her trouble in the society of Granny Lindsay and David.
She passed a “happy, happy half day,” then, with many kisses, took a loving leave of her old friend, and returned home in charge of the fisher lad.
It was sunset when they landed on the promontory beach.
“To-morrow is Sunday. Uncle and aunt and I will go to church at La Compte’s Landing. But after church we shall come directly home. Will you come in the afternoon to bid me a last good-by before I go? You know we are to start before day on Monday, so as to catch the St. Inigoes stage-coach,” said little Glo’, as she was about to take leave of her friend.
“Yes, indeed. I am going to church at St. Inigoes, but I will go to early mass, so as to be back in time to come here in the afternoon,” replied the boy.