"'Then, mamma, I will just get my work-basket, and sit here, as
still as a mouse, and prevent all disturbance.' "With that, she gets out her miniature thimble and scissors, and
falls to work upon a pair of slippers she was embroidering for her
father's birthday present, sitting up, starched and prim as an old
maid, her lips pursed, and her forehead gravely consequential. I
could not close my eyes without seeing her still, like an undersized
nightmare, her hair smooth to the least hair, her dress neat to the
smallest fold, stitching, stitching, the affected, conceited
marmoset!
"At last I said: "'Put down your sewing, Florence, and look out of the window at the
people going by. You must be very tired.' "'Not in the least, mamma, dear,' answered Miss Pert. 'I like to
work, and there is nothing interesting going on outside.' "I tossed and sighed, and she was by me in a second.
"'Darling mamma! my poor, sweet little mother!' in her reed-like
chirp; 'can I do nothing to make you feel better?' putting her hands
upon my head and stroking my face until my flesh crawled.
"'Yes,' said I, out of all patience. 'Take yourself off, and don't
let me see you again until to-morrow morning! You kill me with your
teasing.' "And would you believe it? she just put up her sewing in the basket
and went directly out, without a tear or a murmur, and when her
father came home he could not prevail upon her, by commands or
persuasions, to accompany him further than the door of my chamber.
So he, who won't admit that she can do anything wrong, instead of
whipping her for her obstinacy, as he ought to have done, guessed
she 'had some reason' for her disobedience which she did not like to
tell, and interrogated poor, persecuted me. When he had heard my
version of the manner in which we had spent the afternoon, he only
said, 'I should have foreseen this. But the child--she is only a
child, Rosa!--did her best!' and he looked so mournful that I,
knowing he blamed me for his bantling's freak of temper, told him
plainly that he cared a thousand times more for this diminutive
bundle of hypocrisy than he ever did for me, and that his absurd
favoritism was fast begetting in me a positive dislike for her. I
couldn't endure the sight of the sulky little mischief-maker for a
week after her complaint of barbarity had brought the look into his
face I knew so well."