"Well, I could not think of a story to tell her just then, so I got the big Bible out of the book-case, and began to show her the pictures. But she did not care about that. I think it was my fault, though, because I was not able to hold the book so that she could see them properly. So I read a story to her, but I do not think I chose a very nice one." Mrs. Boxall made a deprecating motion with her head and hands, accompanied by the words-- "She _will_ say what she thinks--Bible or Prayer-book." "Well, and where's the harm, when I mean none? Who's to be angry at that? I _will_ say," Mattie went on, "that it was an ugly trick of that woman to serve a person that never did _her_ any harm; and I wonder at two sensible women like Mrs. Boxall and Deborah sticking up for her." "Is it Jael she means, grannie?" asked Lucy, very softly. "Yes, it is Jael she means," answered Mattie for herself, with some defiance in her tone. "For my part," she continued, "I think it was just like one of Syne's tricks." "Have you seen Mr. Spelt to-day, Mattie?" asked Lucy, desirous of changing the subject, because of the direction the child's thoughts had taken. "Well, I haven't," answered Mattie, "and I will go and see now whether he's gone or not. But don't you fancy that I don't see through it for all that, Miss Burton," she continued. "I shouldn't have been in the way, though--not much, for I like to see young people enjoying themselves." "What _do_ you mean, Mattie?" asked Lucy with a bewilderment occasioned rather by the quarter whence the words proceeded than by the words themselves; for she did expect to see Thomas that evening. Mattie vouchsafed no reply to the question, but bade them good-night, the one and the other, with an evident expression of _hauteur_, and marched solemnly down the stairs, holding carefully by the balusters, for she was too small to use the hand-rail comfortably. Mr. Spelt's roost was shut up for the night: he had gone to take some work home. Mattie therefore turned toward her father's shop. In the archway she ran against Thomas, or, more properly, Thomas ran against her, for Mattie never ran at all, so that he had to clasp her to prevent her from falling. "Well, you needn't be in such a hurry, Mr. Thomas, though she is a-waiting for you. She won't go till you come, _I_ know." "You're a cheeky little monkey," said Thomas, good naturedly. But the words were altogether out of tune with the idea of Mattie, who again felt her dignity invaded, and walked into the shop with her chin projecting more than usual. "Come, my princess," said her father, seating himself in an old chair, and taking the child on his knee. "I haven't seen my princess all day.--How's your royal highness this night?" Mattie laid her head on his shoulder, and burst into tears. "What's the matter with my pet?" said her father, fondling and soothing her with much concern. "Has anybody been unkind to you?"