“Because she’s very good,” said Paul. “There’s nobody like Florence.”
“Well!” retorted Mrs. Pipchin shortly, “and there’s nobody like me, I suppose.”
“Ain’t there really, though?” asked Paul, leaning forward in his chair, and looking at her very hard.
“No,” said the old lady.
“I am glad of that,” observed Paul, rubbing his hands thoughtfully. “That’s a very good thing.”
To which every one would say “Amen,” if they could believe Mrs. Pipchin’s statement to be actually true.
Mrs. Pipchin combined in her “system” many of the evils of child training.
She was not good-looking, and those who train children should be decidedly good-looking. They need not be handsome; they ought to be winsome. Her “mottled face like bad marble, and hard grey eye” meant danger to childhood.
She was gloomy in appearance, in manner, and in dress, all disqualifications for any position connected with child development.
She was “a bitter old lady,” and children should be surrounded with an atmosphere of sweetness and joyousness.