“I shall give this book to Jimmy,” she said quietly, “and please, Miss Cottle, don’t take it away from him again. Jimmy is such a little boy, and I—he has always been loved. I hope you——”
“I don’t believe in sozzling over a child,” interrupted the woman severely. “I’ll see that the boy gets plenty of good bread and butter, and that he goes to school and Sabbath services regularly. By the time you get back I guess you’ll see quite a change in him. When do you expect to start, to-morrow?”
Miss Cottle’s tone expressed a growing impatience.
“I supposed you’d get off this afternoon. I see your trunk is packed and all. There’s no use of hanging back and procrastinating when there’s work to do. That’s one thing I shall teach James.”
She compressed her lips severely, as if anxious to begin.
“I am ready to go,” Barbara told her, with lips which trembled in spite of herself. “I hope you won’t be too severe with Jimmy—at first; he isn’t used to it.”
“Yes,” agreed Miss Cottle, with an acid smile, “it’s easy enough to see that you’ve spoiled the child completely. But I’ll soon straighten him out. My method with children has never been known to fail. Their wills want breaking the first thing; after that they’ll mind, I can tell you.”
“But I don’t want Jimmy’s will broken,” protested Barbara, “please don’t try to do that.”
Miss Cottle tossed her head majestically.
“I shall use my own judgment,” she said firmly, “and I don’t expect no interference; and that reminds me, I want to speak about that hired man of yours. He’s brought more truck into that back bedroom, where you said he was to sleep, than anybody could keep track of. I told him I wouldn’t have it, and he answered back in a way I’m not accustomed to hear. You’ll have to speak to him. Once you’re out the house, I’ll try to get things regulated. But if I should be sick—and I may as well tell you that I’m subject to bad spells of malaria—I shall have to send for my sister from New Hampshire. She’s a widow with one daughter; of course she’d have to bring Elvira along. I thought I’d tell you, because once you’re gone you won’t be able to get back. I suppose your idea is that I’ll do with everything the same as if it was my own for the five years?”