"You are an old-fashioned darling, and I love you for it! I shouldn’t like you to talk as Mrs. Honeybun does. She says you and father spoil me. I wonder if that’s true. She gives Ethel beans sometimes, and Ethel answers back as if they were equals. It would give Granny a fit to hear her!" Twice a year Posy paid a ceremonial visit to Mrs. Biddlecombe. The old lady was very fond of her, although she sniffed at her upbringing. Posy, indeed, had won a moral victory during her first visit, shortly after the Quinneys moved to London. At the end of three days Mrs. Biddlecombe had said majestically to the child: "I hope you’re enjoying yourself, my dear!" "I’m not," said Posy, with shocking candour. "Why not?" demanded the astonished grandmother. "Because you’ve been so wonnerful peevish." "Bless my soul, what next! Well, well, you are a pert little maid, but I must try to be more agreeable." Posy eyed her reflectively. "I dare say," she murmured, "that I should be wonnerful peevish too, if I was very, very old." Quinney, against Susan’s wishes and protests, insisted that the child should be brought up "as a little princess." She was given many so-called advantages. She was taught to play the piano indifferently well; she danced beautifully; she could chatter French, and was now struggling with German. "Spare no expense," said Quinney magnificently. *IV* His intimate relations with the growing girl remained constant. He would make the same remarks, pinch her blooming cheeks, pat her head, and kiss her smooth forehead. "How’s my pet this morning?" "Quite all right, daddy, thank you." "Gettin’ on nicely with your lessons?" "Oh yes." Once, when she was five years old, he had soundly smacked her. The sprite had discovered the efficacy of tears as a solvent of difficulties. Whenever her little will was crossed she howled. She howled as if she enjoyed it, and her father was shrewd enough to know this. One morning he caught her up, laid her across his knee, and spanked her till his hand ached. Next day Posy smiled very sweetly at him, and said reproachfully: "Daddy pank a Posy too hard." But she stopped howling.