"Oh, I daresay, and a nasty, conceited thing. Everybody'll hate you."

"But you oughtn't to hate me, Tom. It'll be very wicked of you, for I
shall be your sister."

"Yes, but if you're a nasty, disagreeable thing, I _shall_ hate you."

"Oh but, Tom, you won't! I shan't be disagreeable. I shall be very good
to you, and I shall be good to everybody. You won't hate me really, will
you, Tom?"

"Oh, bother, never mind! Come, it's time for me to learn my lessons. See
here, what I've got to do," said Tom, drawing Maggie towards him and
showing her his theorem, while she pushed her hair behind her ears, and
prepared herself to prove her capability of helping him in Euclid. She
began to read with full confidence in her own powers; but presently,
becoming quite bewildered, her face flushed with irritation. It was
unavoidable: she must confess her incompetency, and she was not fond of
humiliation.

"It's nonsense!" she said, "and very ugly stuff; nobody need want to
make it out."

"Ah, there now, Miss Maggie!" said Tom, drawing the book away and
wagging his head at her; "you see you're not so clever as you thought
you were."

"Oh," said Maggie, pouting, "I daresay I could make it out if I'd
learned what goes before, as you have."