You're an ungrateful little monkey, and when he's gone
you'll--"
Upon which Miss Kavanagh, not waiting to hear more, flew upstairs
and, locking herself in her own room, gave herself up to howling and
remorse; but was careful not to emerge until she felt bad tempered
again; and able, should opportunity present itself, to renew the
contest with Mrs. Travers unhampered by sentiment.
But Mrs. Travers's words had sunk in deeper than that good lady
herself had hoped for; and one evening, when Abner Herrick was
seated at his desk penning a scathing indictment of the President
for lack of firmness and decision on the tariff question, Ann,
putting her thin arms round his neck and rubbing her little sallow
face against his right-hand whisker, took him to task on the
subject.
"You're not bringing me up properly--not as you ought to," explained
Ann. "You give way to me too much, and you never scold me."
"Not scold you!" exclaimed Abner with a certain warmth of
indignation. "Why, I'm doing it all--"
"Not what _I_ call scolding," continued Ann. "It's very wrong of
you. I shall grow up horrid if you don't help me."
As Ann with great clearness pointed out to him, there was no one
else to undertake the job with any chance of success. If Abner
failed her, then she supposed there was no hope for her: she would
end by becoming a wicked woman, and everybody, including herself,
would hate her.
Pages:
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196