When it was proposed to the Señorita Rosa to admit to her house the indomitable daughter of the fisherman, her first reply was decidedly negative, as she was accustomed to make, in such circumstances, to persons of her character.
Notwithstanding, she finished by consenting, when she was made to understand the good effects expected to result from this work of charity. It is impossible to recount all that the unfortunate schoolmistress suffered during the time she had Marisalada in charge. On one side were mockeries and rebellion; on the other, sermons without profit, and exhortations without result. Two causes exhausted the patience of Rosa; with her patience was not an inborn virtue, but laboriously acquired.
Marisalada had succeeded in organizing a kind of conspiracy in the little battalion commanded by Rosa. This conspiracy burst forth one fine morning, timid and undecided at first, then audacious and walking with a lofty head. Thus was the event:
“The rose mallow does not please me,” suddenly said Marisalada.
“Silence!” cried the mistress, whose severe discipline forbade conversation during school-hours.
Silence was re-established.
Five minutes after a voice, sharp and insolent, was heard:
“The moon-roses do not please me.”
“No one asked your opinion,” said the Señorita Rosa, believing that this declaration had been provoked by Marisalada.
Five minutes after, another conspirator said, on picking up her thimble which had fallen—