“Oh! I wish——” she began.
“And I wish, my dear Nora, that you would remember the politeness due to your hostess. I also wish that you would consider how very silly you are when you speak as you are now doing. I do not know what your Irish habits are; but if it is considered in Ireland rather a virtue than otherwise to spill a milk jug, and allow the contents to deface the tablecloth, I am sorry for you, that is all.”
“You cannot understand. I—I am sorry I came,” said Nora.
She burst into sudden tears, and ran out of the room. In a few moments Linda came back.
“Molly is storming,” she said; “she is in an awful rage.”
“Sit down, Linda, and don't tell tales of your sister,” answered Mrs. Hartrick in an annoyed voice.
“Dear me, mother!” said Linda; “and where is Nora?”
“Nora is a very impertinent little girl. She is wild, however, and unbroken. We must all have patience with her. Poor child! it is terrible to think that she is your father's niece. What a contrast to dear Terence! He is a very nice, polite boy. I am sorry for Nora. Of course, as to Molly, she is quite different. She has always had the advantage of my bringing-up; whereas poor Nora—well, I must say I am surprised at my sister-in-law. I did not think your father's sister would have been so remiss.”
“There is one thing I ought to say,” said Linda.
“What is that, dear? Linda, do sit up straight, and don't poke your head.”