“You will thus understand,” continued Uncle John, “why I threw in a word of justification in time to prevent the utterance of language on your part, which would inevitably have resulted in the loss of a governess for your children who has already gained more power over them for good than any other being in the world possesses. And now, Madeline, let me warn you against any further exhibitions of passion, pride, or contempt toward one into whose hands you have committed the well-being of your children. Seek to elevate, not depress her. Treat her with respect and consideration, and your children will do the same. You make her the guide, counsellor, and companion of your children. Think of the vast influence she must exercise over them! The work of forming their young minds—of directing their characters—is in her hands, not yours. The mother’s high prerogative you choose to delegate to one regarded as an inferior. Happily, in this case, the choice of a representative has not been foolishly made. In all respects Miss Harper is qualified for her position, and, if sustained in it, will act her part nobly. She is no common person, let me tell you, but one of superior mind, high moral worth, and almost perfect accomplishments,—in a word, a model for your children! But she is, at the same time, a young woman with too much self-respect to bear your haughty, insulting manners. If you wish to keep her, therefore, you must not repeat the offences of to-day.”
“Does she expect me to curtsy every time I meet her, and to say, ‘If you please,’ and ‘By your leave, miss’?” The lips of Mrs. Dainty curled, and he looked very scornful.
“No,—nothing of the kind. Only that you shall treat her with common decency,—which you have not done!” Uncle John was provoked.
“You are quite complimentary, I must confess,” said Mrs. Dainty, with an offended manner.
“I speak the truth, and that is always the highest compliment I shall ever pay you, my foolish niece!” retorted Uncle John, who used his prerogative, in most cases, to the full extent.
“I think we had better drop this subject,” said Mrs. Dainty.
“Very well; let it drop now. I will renew it again when your feelings are less excited and your judgment less obscured. Only let me repeat my warning about Miss Harper. You have an angel in your dwelling: let her remain to bless your children. But the guest will not remain if you treat her as though she were a spirit of evil.”
CHAPTER V.
THE WIND AND THE SUN.
“Mother, can’t I take my music-lesson first?” said Agnes. It was on the morning after her fruitless effort to be mistress instead of scholar.
Mrs. Dainty was in the middle of one of the most absorbing chapters of the “Mysteries of Paris,” a book which she had read until twelve o’clock on the night previous, and to which she had turned, immediately after her late breakfast, with the eagerness of a mere excitement-lover. She did not heed her daughter’s question. Only the sound of a disturbing voice was perceived.