“Does she expect me to curtsy every time I meet her, and to say, ‘If you please,’ and ‘By your leave, miss’?” The lips of Mrs. Dainty curled, and he looked very scornful. “No,—nothing of the kind. Only that you shall treat her with common decency,—which you have not done!” Uncle John was provoked. “You are quite complimentary, I must confess,” said Mrs. Dainty, with an offended manner. “I speak the truth, and that is always the highest compliment I shall ever pay you, my foolish niece!” retorted Uncle John, who used his prerogative, in most cases, to the full extent. “I think we had better drop this subject,” said Mrs. Dainty. “Very well; let it drop now. I will renew it again when your feelings are less excited and your judgment less obscured. Only let me repeat my warning about Miss Harper. You have an angel in your dwelling: let her remain to bless your children. But the guest will not remain if you treat her as though she were a spirit of evil.” CHAPTER V. THE WIND AND THE SUN. “Mother, can’t I take my music-lesson first?” said Agnes. It was on the morning after her fruitless effort to be mistress instead of scholar. Mrs. Dainty was in the middle of one of the most absorbing chapters of the “Mysteries of Paris,” a book which she had read until twelve o’clock on the night previous, and to which she had turned, immediately after her late breakfast, with the eagerness of a mere excitement-lover. She did not heed her daughter’s question. Only the sound of a disturbing voice was perceived. “Mother!” Agnes uttered her name in a loud, impatient tone, grasping her arm as she spoke, and shaking it to attract attention. “What do you want, you troublesome girl?” Mrs. Dainty turned angrily toward her daughter. “Can’t I take my music-lesson first?” “I don’t care what lesson you take first! Go away, and don’t disturb me!” This was the mother’s thoughtless answer. Agnes glided away in triumph, and Mrs. Dainty’s eyes fell back to the pages of her book, unconscious of the meaning of her reply. “I’m going to take my music-lesson first!” said Agnes, as she came into the study-room, where Miss Harper was seated with George and Madeline. And she tightened her lips firmly, elevated her chin, and tossed her head jauntily, while from her clear, dark eyes looked out upon her teacher a spirit of proud defiance. “Very well,” replied Florence, in a voice that showed not the slightest disturbance. “At twelve o’clock I will be ready to give the lesson.” “I’m going to take it now,” said Agnes, drawing up her petite form to its extreme height, and looking, or rather trying to look, very imperious. Miss Harper could scarcely help smiling; but she repressed all feeling, and merely answered,— “You can practise your scales for the next two hours, if you prefer doing so, Agnes. At twelve I will give you a lesson.” “I’ll go and tell mother that you won’t give me my music-lesson!” said the baffled, indignant girl, flirting out of the room.