Mrs. Wix, instead of directly answering, only blinked in support of her sturdiness. "My dear, in what a tone you ask that! You're coming out."
"Why shouldn't I? You've come out. Mrs. Beale has come out. We each have our turn!" And Maisie threw off the most extraordinary little laugh that had ever passed her young lips.
There passed Mrs. Wix's indeed the next moment a sound that more than matched it. "You're most remarkable!" she neighed.
Her pupil, though wholly without aspirations to pertness, barely faltered. "I think you've done a great deal to make me so."
"Very true, I have." She dropped to humility, as if she recalled her so recent self-arraignment.
"Would you accept her then? That's what I ask," said Maisie.
"As a substitute?" Mrs. Wix turned it over; she met again the child's eyes. "She has literally almost fawned upon me."
"She hasn't fawned upon him. She hasn't even been kind to him."
Mrs. Wix looked as if she had now an advantage. "Then do you propose to 'kill' her?"
"You don't answer my question," Maisie persisted. "I want to know if you accept her."