“Yes, dear, of course; but you yourself know the advantage of bringing up a girl nicely.”
“And no one is more capable of doing that than you are,” said Mr. Hartrick, giving his wife an admiring glance.
“Thank you, dear, for the compliment; but I should be glad if you would speak to Nora. Now that she is here, I have no doubt that we shall soon discipline her; and I should like her to pay quite a long visit—that is, of course, if she becomes conformable to my ways.”
“She will be sure to do that, Grace,” replied the husband. “I am glad you mean to be good to her, and to take her in hand, poor little lass!”
“I thought she might have some good masters and get some valuable lessons while she is here,” said Mrs. Hartrick. “Would you believe it, George?—that little girl of sixteen calmly informed me that her education was finished. At the same time, she said she knew no language but her own, and just a smattering of that dead tongue, Irish. She cannot play; in short, she has no accomplishments whatever, and yet her education is finished. I must say I do not understand your sister. I should have thought that she was a little more like you.”
“There never was a more particular girl than Ellen used to be,” said Mr. Hartrick; “but I must have a long talk with Nora. I'll see her this evening. I know she has a good deal she wants to talk to me about.”
“A good deal she wants to talk to you about, George?”
“Oh, yes, my dear; but I will explain presently. She is a proud little witch, and must not be coerced; we must remember that her spirit has never been broken. But I'll talk to her, I'll talk to her; leave the matter in my hands, Grace.”
“Certainly, dear; she is your niece, remember.”