Unhappily it was a day of
misfortune, it was one of Aunt Anne's more worldly hours and she
thought that she would spend it in training Maggie. Very good--but
Maggie dropped a glass into which flowers were to have been put, she
shook her pen when she was addressing some envelopes so that some
drops of ink were scattered upon the carpet, and, in her haste to be
punctual, she banged her bedroom door so loudly that Aunt Anne was
waked from her afternoon nap.
A scene followed. Aunt Anne showed herself very human, like any
other aunt justly exasperated by any other niece.
"I sometimes despair of you, Maggie. You will not think of others. I
don't wish to be hard or unjust, but selfishness is the name of your
greatest weakness."
Maggie, standing with her hands behind her, a spot of ink on her
nose and her short hair ruffled, was hard and unrepentant.
"You must send me away," she said; "I'm not a success here. You
don't like me."
Aunt Anne looked at Maggie with eyes that were clear and cold like
deep unfriendly waters. "You mustn't say that. We love you, but you
have very much to learn. To-night I shall speak to Miss Avies and
arrange that you go to have a talk with her sometimes.
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