Christian life -- Juvenile fiction; Pride and vanity -- Juvenile fiction; Self-deception -- Juvenile fiction
"I didn’t!" said the child, shrinking back from her touch, and eyeing
her with a furtive glance.
"Look there!" cried Flora, pointing very gravely to some unmistakable
crimson stains on the dress and hands of the girl. "It is still worse
to tell an untruth about it."
The girl pouted, and put two fingers into her mouth.
"O Lyddie! has no one taught you who sees our actions, and--" Flora was
commencing a gentle, but very serious reproof, when it was suddenly cut
short by her auditor darting from the room.
"What dreadful children!" said poor Flora to herself; "they seem more
unmanageable, more uncared for, both as regards their physical and moral
condition, than the poorest cottager in the village! We must speak
seriously to their mother about them; it is impossible to let them go on
in this way."
To speak to Mrs. John Vernon was not at that moment practicable, as she
had gone to sleep on the sofa, and was on no account to be disturbed.
The dinner, which had been delayed for some hours for her arrival, was
thus again indefinitely postponed, as both Mrs. Vernon and her daughter
thought it more courteous to take their meal with their guest, instead
of sharing that prepared for the children. Flora felt irritated and
tired, and very little disposed to look at the bright side of affairs.
The noisy voices of the children seemed never to be silent. They
penetrated every part of the house; no room appeared safe from the
intrusion of unwelcome little guests: for a spirit of active curiosity
was a characteristic of Lyddie, and Johnny was prosecuting a search for
his negro Sambo, which carried him to places where he was unlikely, as
well as those where he was likely to find him.
At length Emma awoke from her siesta, but Mrs. Vernon found that her
politeness towards the lady had been carried to an unnecessary extent.
Emma declined joining the family at table; she preferred having her
dinner carried to her in her boudoir. Flora, desirous to please her new
guest, herself took the refreshment to her, and had the mortification to
find that it consisted of the only thing, as Emma declared with a sickly
smile, that really she could not touch; while, when pressed to say what
she fancied, she named something which it was difficult, if not
impossible to procure!
Flora dined alone with her mother. This was a relief, for she was
weary, and out of spirits and out of patience. She resolved not to
trouble her mother more than she could possibly help with her own
annoyances and perplexities, for Mrs. Vernon looked harassed and anxious
already. When the lady had gone to superintend the sleeping
arrangements of the children, Flora sought the boudoir of her
sister-in-law, having previously rehearsed many times in her mind the
conversation which she thought might take place between them, and having
studied how she could tell painful truths in the most gentle and least
irritating way.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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