"Oh, ciel! What shall I do! Madame weel abuse me--weel keel me!"
"Mamma will not mind; it is my doll. Aunt Abby gave it to me. I can get a plenty more, and I will give it to her," insisted the little girl again. Then suddenly, gaining more courage, she turned quickly, and, before the governess could stop her, thrust the doll into the other child's arms.
"Here, you shall have it."
The governess, with a cry of rage, made a spring for the child, but too late: the grimy little hands had clutched the doll, and turning without a word of thanks, the little creature sped down the road like a frightened animal, her ragged frock fluttering behind her.
"Why, she did not say 'Thank you'!" exclaimed the child, in a disappointed tone, looking ruefully after the retreating figure.
The governess broke out on her vehemently in French, very comically mingling her upbraidings of her charge, her abuse of the little girl, and her apprehension of "Madame."
"Never mind; she does not know any better," said Gordon.
The child's face brightened at this friendly encouragement.
"She is a nasty little creature! You shall not play with her," cried the governess, angrily.
"She is not nasty! I like her, and I will play with her," declared the child, defiantly.