One day Agnes, the elder sister, accompanied by George, had taken Madeline to the City Square through which they wandered for some time. Growing tired, the girls sat down to observe a party of little children who were jumping the rope, while George, boy-like, took a wide range over the grounds. Suddenly the attention of Agnes was called to Madeline by an exclamation, and, looking around and into her face, she saw that her eyes were fixed on some object with a look of fear. Following their direction, she saw at a short distance the repulsive form of Mrs. Jeckyl, who was standing perfectly still, gazing at them. Her first instinctive movement was to shade the eyes of Madeline with her hand and thus hide from her the form which had disturbed her with its presence. As she did so, Madeline shut her eyes and leaned her head back against her sister.
As soon as Mrs. Jeckyl saw that she was observed, she came forward, offering her hand to Agnes in a familiar way, and inquiring with an affectation of interest about the family.
“Ah,” she continued, “and here is my little pet, Maddy!” placing her hand, as she spoke, on the head of Madeline, whose slight form quivered and shrunk at the touch.
“How are you, dear?” she asked, in tones meant to be winning.
But Madeline kept her face buried in her sister’s garments.
“That little rebel brother tried to frighten my pet,” she added, her hand still playing with the child’s curls,—“the naughty boy! But Maddy was my jewel! Little darling! Come! Look up, and let me see, if only for a moment, that pair of bright eyes.”
Agnes felt the head of Madeline slowly turning, as if she wished to get a stealthy glance at the woman’s face.
“Ah! Peep-bo! Peep!” said Mrs. Jeckyl, playfully. “I thought the light would come.”
Madeline had taken a single look, and then hidden her face again.
“How have you been, darling?” Mrs. Jeckyl bent her head close down to the face of Madeline.