“I said nothing at all, wisha thin.”
“Wisha thin!”
There came a mocking laugh. Peggy raised her blue eyes. There was The Imp looking at her over the balusters—The Imp in a scarlet dress, in which she looked more bewitching and imp-like than usual.
The Imp was bending forward. “Wisha thin!” she said, “Wisha thin! The top of the mornin’ to ye, or the top of the evenin’ belike!”
In one moment, in a flash, Peggy had dropped the hand of her little companion, had rushed upstairs, and taking The Imp by the two shoulders, had shaken her violently, until the angry and enraged little girl had to cry for mercy.
“Now thin, that’s for yer bad manners, bad cess to ye! Don’t ye be goin’ on like that, don’t ye be talking like that, for I won’t have it! Do ye hear—do ye hear—do ye hear?”
“Come, Peggy, come, you must stop this,” said Miss Archdale who had discovered the girls’ quarrel from the actions of little Elisabeth, who, white as a sheet, was crouching in a corner in absolute terror.
Peggy let go The Imp’s shoulders, pushed her violently towards Anne Dodd, and then turned to Miss Archdale. “I’ve relieved meself a bit,” she said. “Where am I to slape, tell me, please?”
Miss Archdale took the girl’s hand, little Elisabeth clinging once again to Peggy’s other hand. They walked up the stairs in the direction of the supper-room. “First of all I will take you to your dormitory,” said Miss Archdale.
“What on earth’s a dormitory?” asked Peggy.