Three pair of eyes were watching her,—those of a grave-looking gentleman, who stood at the foot of the stairs; and those of Arthur and Charlotte Lathrop, who were peering at her over the banisters from above. But Bessie noticed neither until Arthur called her attention by making a sound like a snarling dog. Bessie started and looked up, then went on with her work in silence.
“I say,” said Arthur, “are you making a wreath of roses for that old Mother Hubbard you took such a fancy to on board the steamer?”
Bessie made no answer.
“Why don’t you speak when you’re spoken to?” said Arthur. “Did you give your tongue to Mother Hubbard?”
“When I’m talked to politely, I always do speak,” said the little girl.
Bessie’s Travels. [p. 82.]
“Oh! and we’re not polite enough to suit you, I suppose,” said Arthur, sneeringly.
“’Tis only engineers’ daughters and the like who are fit company for her,” joined in Charlotte.