“In many ways, madam. She is, in the first place, unbearably wild, and rude, and self-willed, and—I regret to say—disobedient.”
“Is it possible? I really would never have imagined it!” cried the lady, glancing in surprise and incredulity toward the shy, quiet looking little girl, sitting demurely in her chair, and not venturing to lift her eyes. “I think I have tamed far more desperate characters than this; in fact, I may say I know I have. Oh! I will have no trouble with your little girl! Why, she is one of the quietest looking little creatures I think I ever saw.”
The Judge glanced toward Pet, and was half inclined to fly into a rage at discovering her so unlike herself, giving the direct lie, as it were, to his assertions.
“Come over here, my love,” said the lady, holding out her hand with a bland smile to Pet. “I want to see you.”
Pet, after the manner of little girls when they are frightened or embarrassed, instead of complying, rubbed her knuckles into her eyes, and pretended to cry.
“Get up, and do as you are told! How dare you act so?” said the judge, forgetting his “company manners” in his rage at what he could easily see was clever acting on Pet’s part.
“Now, pray, my dear sir, don’t frighten the poor little thing,” cried the dulcet tones of the lady. “Little girls are always nervous and frightened when first sent to school. Come here, my love; don’t be afraid of me!”
“Go!” thundered the judge, with a brow like a thunder-cloud.
Pet, still sniffling, got up and went over to Mrs. Moodie.
“What is your name, my dear?” smiled the lady, taking Pet’s little brown hand in her own snowy fingers.