Miss Reed: “He dared to be very insolent to me.”
Miss Spaulding: “And you know you liked him very much.”
Miss Reed: “I won’t let you say that, Nettie Spaulding. I didn’t like him. I respected and admired him; but I didn’t like him. He will come near me; but if he does he has to begin by—by—Let me see, what shall I make him begin by doing?” She casts up her eyes for inspiration while she leans forward over the register. “Yes, I will! He has got to begin by taking that money!”
Miss Spaulding: “Ethel, you wouldn’t put that affront upon a sensitive and high-spirited man!”
Miss Reed: “Wouldn’t I? You wait and see, Miss Spaulding! He shall take the money, and he shall sign a receipt for it. I’ll draw up the receipt now, so as to have it ready, and I shall ask him to sign it the very moment he enters this door—the very instant!” She takes a portfolio from the table near her, without rising, and writes: “‘Received from Miss Ethel Reed one hundred and twenty-five dollars, in full, for twenty-five lessons in oil-painting.’ There—when Mr. Oliver Ransom has signed this little document he may begin to talk; not before!” She leans back in her chair with an air of pitiless determination.
Miss Spaulding: “But, Ethel, you don’t mean to make him take money for the lessons he gave you after he told you you couldn’t learn anything?”
Miss Reed, after a moment’s pause: “Yes, I do. This is to punish him. I don’t wish for justice now; I wish for vengeance! At first I would have compromised on the six lessons, or on none at all, if he had behaved nicely; but after what’s happened I shall insist upon paying him for every lesson, so as to make him feel that the whole thing, from first to last, was a purely business transaction on my part. Yes, a purely—BUSINESS—TRANSACTION!”
Miss Spaulding, turning to her music: “Then I’ve got nothing more to say to you, Ethel Reed.”
Miss Reed: “I don’t say but what, after he’s taken the money and signed the receipt, I’ll listen to anything else he’s got to say, very willingly.” Miss Spaulding makes no answer, but begins to play with a scientific absorption, feeling her way fitfully through the new piece, while Miss Reed, seated by the register, trifles with the book she has taken from the table.