Katy did not dare to say "No," but she felt rebellious. When they were
half through tea, the door opened, and a boy came in.
"You are late, Clarence," said Mr. Page, while Mrs. Page groaned and
observed, "Clarence makes a point of being late. He really deserves
to be made to go without his supper. Shut the door, Clarence. O
mercy! don't bang it in that way. I wish you would learn to shut a
door properly. Here are your cousins, Katy and Clover Carr. Now
let me see if you can shake hands with them like a gentleman, and
not like a ploughboy."
Clarence, a square, freckled boy of thirteen, with reddish hair, and
a sort of red sparkle in his eyes, looked very angry at this address.
He did not offer to shake hands at all, but elevating his shoulders
said, "How d'you do?" in a sulky voice, and sitting down at the table
buried his nose without delay in a glass of milk. His mother gave a
disgusted sigh.
"What a boy you are!" she said. "Your cousins will think that you
have never been taught any thing, which is not the case; for I'm sure
I've taken twice the pains with you that I have with Lilly. Pray
excuse him, Katy. It's no use trying to make boys polite!"
"Isn't it?" said Katy, thinking of Phil and Dorry, and wondering what
Mrs. Page could mean.
"Hullo, Lilly!" broke in Clarence, spying his sister as it seemed for
the first time.
"How d'you do?" said Lilly, carelessly. "I was wondering how long it
would be before you would condescend to notice my existence."
"I didn't see you."
"I know you didn't. I never knew such a boy! You might as well have
no eyes at all."
Clarence scowled, and went on with his supper. His mother seemed
unable to let him alone. "Clarence, don't take such large mouthfuls!
Clarence, pray use your napkin! Clarence, your elbows are on the
table, sir! Now, Clarence, don't try to speak until you have
swallowed all that bread,"--came every other moment. Katy felt very
sorry for Clarence. His manners were certainly bad, but it seemed
quite dreadful that public attention should be thus constantly called
to them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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