Thompson departed with stealthy steps, and closed the scarlet baized doors which separated the nursery apartments from the wing which contained her lady's boudoir and sleeping chamber; but no precautions could deaden the piercing screams which issued from the unfortunate Anna Maria during the operation of transplanting her little person from the pleasures of companionship to the desolate advantages of Thompson's sitting-room.
Rage crimsoned every feature, and swelled her little heart almost to bursting. In vain Thompson assured the angry girl how necessary the translation would prove towards her future establishment—how impossible it was for a young lady to succeed in after life if her hands were purple, and her nose red, with giving way to excessive emotion. Anna Maria became more intractable, and her three sisters advocated her cause. There was an "emeute" in the nurseries of Wetheral Castle. Anna Maria screamed violently, and the shrill sound was caught up and perpetuated by her party. Thompson was at fault, but she tried to gain time by the protocol system.
"Listen, my dear Miss Anna Maria, while I explain to you the system your mamma wishes you to pursue."
"I won't listen!" screamed Anna Maria.
"We won't listen!" shouted her supporters.
"Then you will never marry Master Pynsent," cried Thompson, with incautious indignation.
This threat raised the defiance of the whole group, and the tumult became deafening. A bell rang violently.
"There, young ladies!" exclaimed Thompson, "now you will get into a fine scrape!"
Lady Wetheral was scandalized at the rude sounds which had penetrated into her chamber, and Thompson's statement utterly confounded her.