So she got up, went to her refractory pupil, and lifted her forefinger by
way of giving emphasis to her words.
But Polly, recognizing that her little mistress's temperature was rising,
felt a proportionate rise in her own, rolled her eyes till nothing but the
whites were visible, and stuck her lower lip out.
It would be impossible to conceive of a creature uglier or more
aggravating looking than Polly, when she did that way.
In a flash, down came Roberta's little soft pink palm on her cheek.
Mrs. Marsden happened to be passing on her way to the quarters to visit a
sick servant, and witnessed the performance. She was amused, but worried
too, that Roberta had allowed herself to be so provoked, for it almost
made a farce of the whole thing; and she knew how much in earnest her
little daughter really was. The child's flushed cheeks and flashing eyes
brought back, O so vividly! another face and another pair of flashing orbs
so like hers. There were tears in Mrs. Marsden's eyes when she went in the
summer-house and took her seat on the bench that circled around it.
"Did you strike Polly, daughter?"
"Yes 'em, Mamma."
"What did you strike her for, daughter?"
"She wouldn't say her lesson, Mamma, and she knew it all the time.
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