"She said I put on fine airs," said Hetty, trembling with indignation. "I did not put on airs. They wanted me to perform, and I could not do it. If I had done it Phyllis would have been the first to blame me. I remember how she scorned me for doing it long ago."
"I hope you will make her apologize to me, Miss Davis," said Phyllis quietly. The more excited poor Hetty became, the quieter grew the other girl.
"She is ungenerous," continued Hetty, striving valiantly to keep back her tears; "she knew her mother would not approve of my performing; and besides, I told her I was afraid. If I had done it she would have complained to Mrs. Enderby of my doing it."
This passionate accusation hit Phyllis home. She knew it was true—so true that though she had arraigned Hetty before Miss Davis for the pleasure of humbling her, she yet had no intention of carrying the tale to her mother, fearing that Mrs. Enderby would say that Hetty had been right. Had Hetty made "a show of herself" by performing, Phyllis would perhaps have made a grievance of it to her parents. Stung for a moment with the consciousness that this was true, before she had had time to persuade herself of the contrary, Phyllis grew white with anger. The injury she could least forgive was a hurt to her self-complacency.
"She must apologize, Miss Davis, or I will go to papa," said Phyllis, disdaining to glance at Hetty, but looking at her governess.
Miss Davis was troubled.
"This is all very painful," she said. "Hetty, you had better go to your room till you have recovered your composure. Whatever may have been your motives last night you have now put yourself in the wrong by speaking so rudely."
Hetty flashed out of the room, and Phyllis, quiet and triumphant, turned to her lesson-books with a most virtuous expression upon her placid face.
Hetty wept for an hour in her own room. Looking back on her conduct she could not see that she had been more to blame than Phyllis. Oh, how was it that Phyllis was always proved to be so good while she was always forced into the wrong? She remembered a prayer asking for meekness which Mrs. Kane had taught her, and she knelt by her bedside and said it aloud; and just then she heard Miss Davis calling to her to open the door.
"My dear," said the governess, "I have come to tell you that you really must apologize to Phyllis. It was exceedingly rude of you to tell her so flatly that her words were untrue."