'He is my example, my warning beacon, you see. He was the first-begotten of Envy, that eldest-born of Hell—a terrible incarnation of unresisted human passion. Had he first learned to restrain the beginnings of evil, it would not have overwhelmed him so completely. Possibly in their young, hard-working life he would have loved to be able to make Abel angry.'
'Aunt Milly!' Chrissy was shedding a few indignant tears now.
'Well, my dear?'
'It is too bad. You have no right to compare me with Cain,' sobbing vengefully.
'Did I do so? Nay, Chriss, I think you are mistaken.'
'First to be called a baby, and then a murderer!'
'Hush! hush!'
'I know I am wicked to try and make them angry, but they tease me so; they call me Contradiction, and the Barker, and Pugilist Pug, and lots of horrid names, and it was only like playing at war to get one's revenge.'
'Choose some fairer play, my little Chriss.'
'It is such miserable work trying to be proper and good; I don't think I've got the face for it either,' went on Chriss, a subtle spirit of fun drying up her tears again, as she examined her features curiously in Mildred's glass. 'I don't look as though I could be made good, do I, Aunt Milly'—frowning fiercely at herself—'not like a young Christian?'