punish Mrs. Desire for the undeserved praise I had just
received, and pushed the board till it clattered and made a dust.
When Mrs. Desire detected me she turned white with anger. I pushed it
again, making so much noise that the visitors turned to see the cause.
She shook her head in my direction, and I knew what was in store, as
we had been at enmity a long time, and she only waited for a decisive
piece of mischief on my part. As soon as the visitors had gone, she
said in a loud voice: "Cassandra Morgeson, take your books and go
home. You shall not come here another day."

I was glad to go, and marched home with the air of a conqueror, going
to the keeping-room where mother sat with a basket of sewing. I saw
Temperance Tinkham, the help, a maiden of thirty, laying the table for
supper.

"Don't wrinkle the tablecloth," she said crossly; "and hang up your
bonnet in the entry, where it belongs," taking it from me as she gave
the order, and going out to hang it up herself.

"I am turned out of school, mother, for pushing a board with my foot."

"Hi," said father, who was waiting for his supper; "come here," and he
whistled to me. He took me on his knee, while mother looked at me with
doubt and sorrow.

"She is almost a woman, Mary."

"Locke, do you know that I am thirty-eight?"

"And you are thirty-three, father," I exclaimed. He looked younger.
I thought him handsome; he had a frank, firm face, an abundance of
light, curly hair, and was very robust. I took off his white
beaver hat, and pushed the curls away from his forehead. He had his
riding-whip in his hand. I took that, too, and snapped it at our
little dog, Kip. Father's clothes also pleased me--a lavender-colored
coat, with brass buttons, and trousers of the same color. I mentally
composed for myself a suit to match his, and thought how well we
should look calling at Lady Teazle's house in London, only I was
worried because my bonnet seemed to be too large for me. A loud crash
in the kitchen disturbed my dream, and Temperance rushed in, dragging
my sister Veronica, whose hair was streaming with milk; she had pulled
a panful over her from the buttery shelf, while Temperance was taking
up the supper. Father laughed, but mother said:

"What have I done, to be so tormented by these terrible children?"

Her mild blue eyes blazed, as she stamped her foot and clenched her
hands. Father took his hat and left the room. Veronica sat down on the
floor, with her eye