"I declare I don't think I shall!" said Kate. "I have such a contempt for that young person that I don't believe anything will reform her. She is made like that, you see; she is made small both in mind and body. You know that new theory about men's and women's brains: they say that the average woman's brain weighs forty-two ounces, and the average man's forty-eight, but, of course, there are exceptions on both sides of the scale. I should say that Matilda's brain weighed about half that of the ordinary intelligent woman."
"You are begging the question when you talk like that," said Molly. "I hate her coming, but I want her to come. I won't have her if you and Cecil steadily set your faces against it; but if you would let her come, I am sure it would be happiest for us in the end."
"If you speak like that," said Cecil, "of course she must come. It is your party, and we are your guests, and what you wish must be done. It seemed all too perfect yesterday, so I suppose Matilda is to be the little fret and the little cloud—the thorn in the rose, and the rumple under the sheet. But there, don't look so miserable, Molly; we'd put up with more than this for your sake. Wouldn't we, Kate?"
"Yes; that we would," said Kate. "But now, do listen to me, girls. I believe that I have known Matilda Matthews longer than either of you. I have been longer at St. Dorothy's. I have heard all about her; I wouldn't mind a bit if Matilda were rough and quarrelsome and coarse; but what I do loathe are her underhand ways. She's not square; she's not straight; you can never manage a person of that sort. Now, if she's to come, do let us make a bargain with her beforehand."
"Oh, I'm sure she'll consent to anything!" said Molly. "Shall I run and fetch her now?"
"Yes, do; we may as well get the thing settled out of hand."
Molly ran quickly out of the room, returning in a few minutes with Matilda in her train.
"They consent," she said, as she hurried her companion down the corridor; "but you will have to do what we wish, and you've got to hear about it now."
"I'll do anything," said Matilda, in a humble tone. "I'm heartily glad; I'm awfully obliged. When the alternative is staying in this house with the cook and housemaid, you can imagine that I shall be easily molded, even into the goody-goody shape. Fancy me turned goody-goody! Fancy me cultivating all the virtues! But I'll do it while I'm at the seaside. You won't know me; I'll be such a model that you'll all begin to copy me."