“Madame, your mother, most royal princess,” said the annoying Helen, with provoking coolness, “has the misfortune, however, at present, to be the instructress of the daughter of a plebian country lawyer.”
“It is a misfortune, mademoiselle,” answered Caro.
The girls drew together a little frightened; they knew a crisis was coming, for many times before had they witnessed similar “passages at arms,” between the two girls, but never such a threatening one.
“Never mind Caro,” said little Lina, “let’s leave Helen; she’s always so cross, and says such ill-bred things. We’ll go and play by ourselves. You shall be our queen, and I will be your little countess, or any thing you want me to be. The girls will go with us, too; wont you, girls?”
“Ha! ha!” laughed the now irritated Helen, for she saw that most of the girls were disposed to take Caro’s part. “This is amusing, truly, to see the daughter of a plain American country store-keeper playing countess, and the granddaughter of a French inn-keeper taking state and royal airs over simple republicans.”
Helen’s tantalizing expressions might have caused one thing royal—a “battle royal”—for, although they were little young ladies, they were sometimes apt to forget the rules of good breeding daily enjoined upon them—but fortunately they were interrupted. Some ladies joined them—mothers and elder sisters of the girls; for this park-like wood was a favorite afternoon resort for the inhabitants of the little village of B——. The angry retort trembled on Caro’s tongue, and frowning glances were exchanged between them; for awhile their quarrel was suspended—but only for awhile; the next day would be sure to renew the scene. After a little talk with the ladies, Caro and Lina withdrew to another part of the grounds, followed by their adherents, which we must confess, comprised the greater number of the school; and the sturdy little republican, Helen, was in the minority, for only two or three of the older girls espoused her cause. As they left, one of the remaining girls whispered to Helen, with a merry laugh,
“See, Caro and Lina are going off to hold their Court. Had we not better set up a rival one? We will elect you lady president, or cabinet officer’s lady, or senator’s wife. You would not, I suppose, take any less republican title from us, and, of course, it would be hardly safe or proper to send you ministress plenipotentiary to adjust difficulties between the two governments.”
Helen laughed contemptuously, as if she thought the whole affair too childish to be noticed. But her little heart was not much, if any, better than Caro’s and Lina’s. Like theirs it swelled with anger and pride, and although she was a good, sensible girl, she many times permitted her temper and a spirit of envious rivalry that had unconsciously sprung up between her and Caro, to master her, and make her forget the gentle courtesy and good-breeding which should characterize every woman, whether republican or aristocrat—because she is a woman.
——