arjorie, continuing to dance wildly up and down.
"I do wish, Maggie, you'd understand that other people are not in the
frantic state of bliss you are in. Your manners lately are _too_
intolerable. I shall ask father if I cannot have a separate bedroom,
for I will not have you banging in and out of the room in the horrid
tomboy way you have. I don't want to hear your good news. It's nothing
that can concern me, that I am sure."
"Oh, indeed, truly it concerns you."
"I don't want to hear it. I know you and your raptures. It will be a
perfect comfort when you are at Glendower, and I can have a little
peace!"
"That's just it! I'm not going to Glendower."
"Oh! You have got into a scrape too? Well, I must say I think it's
time your righteous pride should have a fall. I have no patience with
little girls who are always in everyone's good books, and who are set
up as patterns. But what's the matter? You seem uncommonly delighted
at losing your fine treat."
"I would be, if you'd speak ever so little kindly to me, Ermie, I
really am not the horrid girl you think."
"I don't think anything about you, child."
"Well, you shouldn't say things about me. You shouldn't say what you
don't think."
"Oh, for goodness' sake, don't begin to moralize! Was that the
breakfast gong?"
"Yes. And you'd better be quick eating up your breakfast, Ermie, for
you won't have too much time."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you'll have to tell Hudson about your dresses and things. _You_
are going to Glendower!"
The dull look left Ermengarde's eyes. They began to sparkle. She stood
quite still for a moment. Then she turned slowly round and faced her
little sister. All Marjorie's soul was shining out of her face at this
moment.
"Do you mean this, Maggie?" asked Ermengarde.
"Of course I mean it. Aren't you glad? Aren't you delighted?"
"But how has it been managed? Father said he'd punish me for talking
to Susan Collins, and he said you were to go in my stead."
"Well, now, you are to go instead of me. It's just turned round.
Aren't you very glad?"
"Well, I did want to see Lilias. She's more the sort of friend for me
than for you; isn't she, Maggie?"
"I suppose so," said Marjorie, suppressing a quick sigh.
"And of course Lady Russell wanted me, not you."
"Yes, I told father I was sure she'd like you best."
"Oh, you spoke to father about it?"
"Why, of course, Ermie."
"Then you haven't got into disgrace yourself?"
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