Sara sighed one
of the plaintive little sighs which I had once thought so
charming, but now, to my surprise, found faintly irritating, and
said that she would be very much obliged if I would.
"I feel that I am not able to cope with the problem of Betty's
education, Stephen," she admitted, "Betty is a strange
child...all Churchill. Her poor father indulged her in
everything, and she has a will of her own, I assure you. I have
really no control over her, whatever. She does as she pleases,
and is ruining her complexion by running and galloping out of
doors the whole time. Not that she had much complexion to start
with. The Churchills never had, you know."...Sara cast a
complacent glance at her delicately tinted reflection in the
mirror.... "I tried to make Betty wear a sunbonnet this summer,
but I might as well have talked to the wind."
A vision of Betty in a sunbonnet presented itself to my mind, and
afforded me so much amusement that I was grateful to Sara for
having furnished it. I rewarded her with a compliment.
"It is to be regretted that Betty has not inherited her mother's
charming color," I said, "but we must do the best we can for her
under her limitations. She may have improved vastly by the time
she has grown up. And, at least, we must make a lady of her; she
is a most alarming tomboy at present, but there is good material
to work upon...there must be, in the Churchill and Currie
blend.
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