"
"What is that?" asked Miss Oliphant. She was leaning back in a deep
easy-chair, and Nancy, who did not care for luxurious seats, had
perched herself on a little stool at her feet. Nancy was a small,
nervous-looking person; she had a zealous face and eager, almost too
active movements. Nancy was the soul of bustling good nature, of
brightness and kindness. She often said that Maggie Oliphant's
laziness rested her.
"What is it?" said Maggie again. "How are we in the wrong, Nance?"
She lifted her dimpled hand as she spoke and contemplated it with a
slow, satisfied sort of smile.
"We have made a mistake about Miss Peel, that is all; she is a very
noble girl."
"Oh, my dear Nance! Poor little Puritan Prissie! What next?"
"It is all very fine to call her names," replied Nancy-- here she
sprang to her feet-- "but I couldn't do what she did. Do you know that
she absolutely and completely turned the tables on that vulgar Annie
Day and that pushing, silly little Lucy Marsh. I never saw any two
look smaller or poorer than those two when they skedaddled out of her
room. Yes, that's the word-- they skedaddled to the door, both of
them, looking as limp as a cotton dress when it has been worn for a
week, and one almost treading on the other's heels; and I do not think
Prissie will be worried by them any more.
Pages:
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73