"Don't invent grievances, Isobel, for I see you have a real
stumbling-block, when we can come to it. You are not at the
confirmation-class, and I am not easily horrified."

"Well, there are two difficulties--I explain very stupidly," said I
with some sadness.

"We'll take them one at a time," replied Aunt Isobel with an
exasperating blandness, which fortunately stimulated me to
plain-speaking.

"Everybody says one ought to 'restrain' one's temper, but I'm not sure
if I think one ought. Isn't it better to _have things out_? Look at
Philip. He's going to be confirmed, and then he'll go back to school,
and when he and another boy quarrel, they'll fight it out, and feel
comfortable afterwards. Aunt Isobel, I can quite understand feeling
friendly after you've had it out, even if you're the one who is
beaten, if it has been a fair fight. Now _restraining_ your temper
means forcing yourself to be good outside, and feeling all the worse
inside, and feeling it longer. There is that utterly stupid little
schoolroom-maid, who is under my orders, that I may teach her. Aunt
Isobel, you would not credit how often I tell her the same thing, and
how politely she says 'Yes, miss!' and how invariably she doesn't do
it after all. I say, 'You _know_ I told you only yesterday. What _is_
the use of my trying to teach you?' and all kinds of mild things like
that; but really I quite hate her for giving me so much trouble and
taking so little herself, and I wish I might discharge her. Now, if
only it wasn't wrong to throw--what are those things hot-tempered
gentlemen always throw at their servants?"