I was good, in my last home—and see how I was rewarded! Next morning I upturn my chamber-pot and tread the mess into the carpet. Mrs Stiles throws up her hands and screams; then strikes my face. Then, half-clad and dazed as I am, she drags me from my dressing-room to my uncle''s door.
He flinches from the sight of us. ''Good God, what is it?''
''Oh, a frightful thing, sir!''
''Not more of her violence? And do you bring her here, where she might break out, among the books?''
But he lets her speak, looking all the time at me. I stand very stiff, with a hand at my hot face, my pale hair loose about my shoulders.
At length he takes off his spectacles and closes his eyes. His eyes appear naked to me, and very soft at the lids. He raises his thumb and smudged forefinger to the bridge of his nose, and pinches.
''Well, Maud,'' he says as he does it, ''this is sorry news. Here is Mrs Stiles, and here am I, and here are all my staff, all waiting on your good manners. I had hoped the nurses had raised you better than this. I had hoped to find you biddable.'' He comes towards me, blinking, and puts his hand upon my face. ''Don''t shrink so, girl! I want only to examine your cheek. It is hot, I think. Well, Mrs Stiles''s hand is a large one.'' He