Flora murdered it again, with the most atrocious, cold-blooded cruelty. I almost mocked the sound aloud in my passion.
"I do not tell you to vex you, only I saw that Mr. Ratcliffe—"
"You need not trouble yourself about his opinion."
"I knew you would not like it, if I told you of a mistake. But I supposed you would rectify it, and I should have done you a kindness, even against your will."
"And I to hate you for it, eh?"
"If you can."
"Indeed I cannot, Etty, for you are my very best friend. But you are a horrid, truth-telling, formidable body. Why not let me sing on, my own way? I don't thank you a bit. I had rather sing it wrong, than be corrected. It hurts my pride. I think people should take my music as they find it. If it does not please them, they are not obliged to ask me to sing. One note wrong can surely be put up with, if the rest is worth hearing. I shall continue to sing it as I have done, I think."
"No,—please don't!"
"If I will mend it when I think of it, will you sing a duet?"
"Yes, though it will cost me more than you know."