“Yes—but I haven’t quite done yet. Papa talks a good deal to you, and you don’t talk much to papa. Don’t you like him?”
“Oh, Kitty!”
“Then do you like him?”
“How can I help liking him? I owe all my happiness to your papa.”
“Do you like him better than mamma?”
“I should be very ungrateful, if I liked anybody better than your mamma.”
Kitty considered a little, and shook her head. “I don’t understand that,” she declared roundly. “What do you mean?”
Sydney cleaned the pupil’s slate, and set the pupil’s sum—and said nothing.
Kitty placed a suspicious construction of her own on her governess’s sudden silence. “Perhaps you don’t like my wanting to know so many things,” she suggested. “Or perhaps you meant to puzzle me?”
Sydney sighed, and answered, “I’m puzzled myself.”