Topsy had never been spoken to so kindly and gently in all her life.
For a minute she looked as if she were going to cry. The next she was
grinning as usual in her ugly way.

What was to be done with Topsy? Miss Ophelia was quite puzzled. She shut
her up in a dark room till she could think about it.

'I don't see,' she said to Mr. St. Clare, 'how I am going to manage that
child without whipping her.'

'Well, whip her, then.'

'I never heard of bringing up children without it,' said Miss Ophelia.

'Oh, well, do as you think best. Only, I have seen this child beaten
with a poker, knocked down with the shovel or tongs, or anything that
came handy. So I don't think your beatings will have much effect.'

'What is to be done with her, then?' said Miss Ophelia. 'I never saw
such a child as this.'

But Mr. St. Clare could not answer her question. So Miss Ophelia had to
go on, as best she could, trying to make Topsy a good girl.

She taught her to read and to sew. Topsy liked reading, and learned her
letters like magic. But she could not bear sewing. So she broke her
needles or threw them away. She tangled, broke, and dirtied her cotton
and hid her reels. Miss Ophelia felt sure all these things could not be
accidents. Yet she could never catch Topsy doing them.