Jasper’s face grew very pink.
“I did try, I really did,” he murmured.
“I daresay you did, but I couldn’t be as patient as Miss Earle, and then there’d be fusses,” objected Chrissie with great candour.
“I’ll be werry good,” persisted Jasper. “I wish you’d do lessons with me. I’m beginnin’ to forget lots, I’m sure,” and the look in his small face touched his sister. After all, it might be rather amusing, better than staring out of the window at the rain pouring down on the dull street.
“Well, I’ll try, as you want me so much to do it, Mummy,” she said, though not too graciously. “I don’t see why Leila shouldn’t help,” she went on.
“I’ve not been asked,” said Leila, “and I’ve not been grumbling like you at having nothing to do.”
“I hope you will take your part in teaching Jasper, Leila,” said her mother as she rose from her chair, “but to-day it is best to leave it to Chrissie. You can come here as soon as Harriet has cleared the table,” she added to the new little governess.
Jasper kept his promise—he tried his best manfully, and, for part of the time at least, Christabel did her best. But even with real goodwill, if one has not got the habit of self-control, patience and gentleness, especially in teaching, cannot be learnt all at once.
“You are too stupid for words,” cried Chrissie, pushing away the book before them violently. “At your age I could read perfectly—as well as I do now.”
“I am tryin’,” said the little boy, choking down a sob which was not far off.