Part 18 (1/2)
A grateful, silent look thanked him, and he took his departure. Rotha, who had been standing silent and cloudy, now burst forth.
”Mother!--I do not want him to teach me!”
”Why not, my child? I think he is very kind.'
”Kind! I don't want to be taught out of kindness; and I _don't_ want _him_ to teach me, mother!”
”What's the matter?” for Rotha was flushed and fierce.
”I can learn without him. It is none of his business, whether I learn or not. And if I shouldn't say something just right, and he should find fault, I should be so angry I shouldn't know what to do!”
”You talk as if you were angry now.”
”Well I am! Why did you say yes, mother?”
”Would you have had me say no?”
”Yes! I don't want to learn Latin anyhow. What's the use of my learning Latin? And of him,--O mother, mother!”
And Rotha burst into impatient and impotent tears.
”Why not of Mr. Digby?” said her mother soothingly.
”O he is so--I can't tell!--he's so uppish.”
”He is not _uppish_ at all. I am ashamed of you, Rotha.”
”Well, nothing puts him out. He is just always the same; and he thinks everything must be as he says. I don't like him to come here teaching me.”
”What folly is this? He is a gentleman, that's all. Do you dislike him for being a gentleman?”
”I'm not a lady”--sobbed Rotha.
”What has that to do with it?”
”Mother, I wish I could be a lady!”
”My child, Mr. Digby told you how.”
”No, he didn't. He told me _what_ it was; he didn't tell me how I could get all that.”
”You can follow the Bible roles, at any rate, Rotha; and they go a good way.”
”No, I can't, mother. I could if I were a Christian, I suppose; but I am not I can't 'honour all men'; I don't know how; and I can't prefer others before myself I prefer myself But if I could, that wouldn't make me a lady.”
Mrs. Carpenter did not know what to do with this pa.s.sion, the cause of which she was at a loss to understand. It was very real; Rotha sobbed; and her mother was at a loss how to comfort her. What dim, far-off recognition was this, of powers and possibilities in life--or in herself --of which the girl had hitherto no experience and no knowledge? It was quite just Mrs. Carpenter, herself refined and essentially lady-like, knew very well that her little girl was not growing up to be a lady; she had laid that off, along with several other subjects of care, as beyond her reach to deal with; but Rotha's appeal smote a tender spot in her heart, and she was puzzled how to answer her. Perhaps it was just as well that she took refuge in her usual silence and did not try any further.
As Mr. Digby was going through the little pa.s.sage way to the front door, another door opened and Mrs. Marble's head was put out.
”Good morning!” she said. ”You're a friend of those folks up stairs, aint you?”