"Nobody ever told me I eat too much, before," said Maria.
"There are a great many things that you have never been told, I suppose?" said Clarissa, lifting her handsome eyes quietly.
"I don't care about your telling me either," said Maria.
"My dear, that is not polite," interposed her aunt. "I am sorry to hear you speak so. Would you not like to have Issa, or any one, tell you things that you would be the better for. You would not wish to remain just as you are, to the end of your days?"
"It don't hurt anybody but me," said Maria.
"I beg your pardon. Everything that is not graceful and well-mannered, on the part of people in whose company we are, hurts me and Clarissa. It hurts me to have you bolt down your food as you were doing just now—if I am sitting at the same table with you. And it hurts me to have you speak rudely. I hope you will mend in all these things."
"It will not hurt you to have us say good-bye," said Anne, rising. "I will do that now, if you please. Letty, I will leave you to take care of these things, and I will finish the packing. We must be quick, too."
The farewell greetings with her aunt and cousin were soon spoken; and Maria and Matilda tore up-stairs after their sister, to pour out tears and complaints together during the remaining moments of her being at home. Matilda's tears, however, were quiet and her words very few.
"Ain't she too bad!" exclaimed Maria.
"You must try and hold your own the best you can," said Anne, "until mamma gets up again. Poor children! I am afraid she will be too much for you."