The Stokesley Secret [27]
the desire of the walk to Bonchamp to buy some; but the thought that the ribbon, after all, might be procured there, satisfied her. The little doleful maid was changed into an eager, happy, chattering child, full of intelligence and contrivance, and showing many pretty fancies, since there was no one to tease her and laugh at her; and her governess listened kindly and helpfully.
Miss Fosbrook could not help thinking how much happier her little companion would have been as an only child, or with one sister, and parents who would have made the most of her love of taste and refinement, instead of the hearty busy parents, and the rude brothers and sisters, who held her cheap for being unlike themselves. But then she bethought her, that perhaps Bessie might have grown up vain and affected, had all these tastes been petted and fostered, and that perhaps her little hardships might make her the stronger, steadier, more useful woman, instead of living in fancies. It was the unkindness on one side, and the temper on the other, that made Miss Fosbrook uneasy.
The work had gone on happily for nearly an hour, and Bessie was copying a forget-me-not off a little painted card-board pincushion of her own, when steps were heard, little trotting steps, and Susan came in with little George. He had been pushed down by Johnnie, and was rather in a fretful mood; and Susan had left all her happy play to bring him in to rest and comfort him, coming to the school-room because Nurse Freeman was out. Before Elizabeth had time to hide away her doings, George had seen the bright pincushion, and was holding out his hands for it. Bessie hastily pocketed it. George burst out crying; and Susan, without more ado, threw herself on her sister, and, pinioning Bessie's slight arm by the greater strength of her firm one, was diving into her pocket in spite of her struggles.
"Susan, leave off," said Miss Fosbrook; "let your sister alone. She has a right to do what she likes with her own."
"It is so cross in her," said Susan, obeying however, but only to snatch up little George, and hug and kiss him. "Poor dear little man! is Betty cross to him? There! there! come with Sue, and SHE'LL get him something pretty."
"Susie, Susie, indeed it's only that I don't want him to spoil it," said Elizabeth, distressed.
"A foolish thing like that! Why, the only use of it is to please the children; but you are just such a baby as he is," said Susan, still pitying George.
"You had better put your things away, Bessie," said Miss Fosbrook, interfering to stop the dispute; and as soon as Elizabeth was gone, and George a little pacified by an ivory ribbon-measure out of Miss Fosbrook's work-box, she observed to Susan, "My dear, you must not let your love for the little ones make you unjust and unkind to Bessie."
"She always is so unkind to them," said Susan resentfully.
"I don't think she feels unkindly; but if you tyrannize over her, and force her to give way to them, you cannot expect her to like it."
"Mamma says the elder must give way to the younger," said Susan.
"You did not try whether she would give way."
"No, because I knew she wouldn't; and I could not have my little Georgie vexed."
"And I could not see my little Susie violent and unjust," said Miss Fosbrook cheerfully. "Justice first, Susan; you had no right to rob Bessie for George, any more than I should have to give away a dinner of your papa's because he had refused a beggar."
"Papa never would," said Susan, rather going off from the point.
"Very likely; but do you understand me, Susan? I will not have Bessie FORCED out of her rights for the little ones. Not Bessie only, but nobody is to be tyrannized over; it is not right."
"Bessie is so nonsensical," was all Susan said, looking glum.
"Very likely she may seem so to you; but if you knew more, you would see that all is not nonsense that seems so to you. Some people would admire her ways."
"Yes, I know," said Susan. "Mrs. Greville told Mrs. Brownlow that Bessie was the only one among us that was capable
Miss Fosbrook could not help thinking how much happier her little companion would have been as an only child, or with one sister, and parents who would have made the most of her love of taste and refinement, instead of the hearty busy parents, and the rude brothers and sisters, who held her cheap for being unlike themselves. But then she bethought her, that perhaps Bessie might have grown up vain and affected, had all these tastes been petted and fostered, and that perhaps her little hardships might make her the stronger, steadier, more useful woman, instead of living in fancies. It was the unkindness on one side, and the temper on the other, that made Miss Fosbrook uneasy.
The work had gone on happily for nearly an hour, and Bessie was copying a forget-me-not off a little painted card-board pincushion of her own, when steps were heard, little trotting steps, and Susan came in with little George. He had been pushed down by Johnnie, and was rather in a fretful mood; and Susan had left all her happy play to bring him in to rest and comfort him, coming to the school-room because Nurse Freeman was out. Before Elizabeth had time to hide away her doings, George had seen the bright pincushion, and was holding out his hands for it. Bessie hastily pocketed it. George burst out crying; and Susan, without more ado, threw herself on her sister, and, pinioning Bessie's slight arm by the greater strength of her firm one, was diving into her pocket in spite of her struggles.
"Susan, leave off," said Miss Fosbrook; "let your sister alone. She has a right to do what she likes with her own."
"It is so cross in her," said Susan, obeying however, but only to snatch up little George, and hug and kiss him. "Poor dear little man! is Betty cross to him? There! there! come with Sue, and SHE'LL get him something pretty."
"Susie, Susie, indeed it's only that I don't want him to spoil it," said Elizabeth, distressed.
"A foolish thing like that! Why, the only use of it is to please the children; but you are just such a baby as he is," said Susan, still pitying George.
"You had better put your things away, Bessie," said Miss Fosbrook, interfering to stop the dispute; and as soon as Elizabeth was gone, and George a little pacified by an ivory ribbon-measure out of Miss Fosbrook's work-box, she observed to Susan, "My dear, you must not let your love for the little ones make you unjust and unkind to Bessie."
"She always is so unkind to them," said Susan resentfully.
"I don't think she feels unkindly; but if you tyrannize over her, and force her to give way to them, you cannot expect her to like it."
"Mamma says the elder must give way to the younger," said Susan.
"You did not try whether she would give way."
"No, because I knew she wouldn't; and I could not have my little Georgie vexed."
"And I could not see my little Susie violent and unjust," said Miss Fosbrook cheerfully. "Justice first, Susan; you had no right to rob Bessie for George, any more than I should have to give away a dinner of your papa's because he had refused a beggar."
"Papa never would," said Susan, rather going off from the point.
"Very likely; but do you understand me, Susan? I will not have Bessie FORCED out of her rights for the little ones. Not Bessie only, but nobody is to be tyrannized over; it is not right."
"Bessie is so nonsensical," was all Susan said, looking glum.
"Very likely she may seem so to you; but if you knew more, you would see that all is not nonsense that seems so to you. Some people would admire her ways."
"Yes, I know," said Susan. "Mrs. Greville told Mrs. Brownlow that Bessie was the only one among us that was capable