“Why, no!” exclaimed her sister. “You two are not at all suited to each other. But I would have you treat him kindly.”
“If I treat him kindly, he will think I like him,” Clara said quickly.
“Oh! I don’t mean very kindly, but with calm friendliness,” answered her preceptress.
“Calm friendliness!” repeated the culprit with emphasis. “Oh! the airs that these little married kittens put on! Hester, seat yourself there, and look me in the face, while I lecture you. Fold your hands, and attend to me. Now, allow me to remind you of two or three little facts. Firstly, I am two years older than you. Secondly, I am not a staid married woman with six boys, and I won’t try to act as if I were. Thirdly, you don’t know as much about this business as you think you do. Fourthly, women who have a great facility for being shocked on all occasions are, according to my observation, very likely to be shocking women. Fifthly, if you wish well to Captain Cary, you should wish to have him cease to care about me; and the surest way to attain that end is to treat him just as I am treating him. No man can long desire a vixen for a wife. Sixthly”—and sixthly, Clara began to cry.
Hester, who never could bear to be blamed, had been herself on the point of crying, but, seeing her sister’s tears, concluded not to.
“Why, what is the matter, Clara?” she asked in distress.
“The matter is that I am tired of being criticised,” answered her sister, wiping her eyes. “I am tired of having people tell me what I mean, instead of asking what I mean. I am tired of having people whom I know to be not so good as I am, set themselves up to be better.”
“I never meant to set myself up to be better than you, Clara,” Hester began pitifully. “I—”
“Bless me! Are you here still?” exclaimed Miss Yorke, with a laugh “I’d forgotten you. I was not talking to you at all, you little goose! The truth is, Hester, I am getting as nervous as a witch. You mustn’t bother me.”
Clara did seem to be nervous, and unlike herself.