subjects on which he needed information, though I feared they might
be rather out of date; and whenever he was not out of doors, he was
reading them, sometimes running his fingers through his yellow hair,
or pulling his beard, and growling to himself when he was puzzled or
met with what he did not like. Eustace's favourite study, meanwhile,
was "Burke's Peerage," and his questions nearly drove me wild by
their absurdity; and Dora rolled on the floor with my Spitz dog, for
she loathed the doll I gave her, and made me more afraid of her than
of either of the others.

Harold was all might and gentleness; Eustace viewed me as a glass of
fashion and directory of English life and manners; but I saw they
both looked to me not only to make their home, but to tame their
little wild cat of a child; and that was enough to make her hate and
distrust me. Moreover, she had a gleam of jealousy not far from
fierce in her wild blue eyes if she saw Harold turn affectionately to
me, and she always protested sullenly against the "next week," when I
was to begin her education.

She could only read words of four letters, and could not, or would
not, work a stitch. Harold had done all her mending. On the second
day I passed by the open door of his room, and saw him at work on a
great rectangular rent in her frock. I could not help stopping to
suggest that Colman or I might save him that trouble, whereupon Dora
slammed the door in my face.

Harold opened it again at once, saying, "You ought to beg Aunt Lucy's
pardon;" and when no apology could be extracted from her, and with
thanks he handed over the little dress to me, she gave a shriek of
anger (she hardly ever shed tears) and snatched it from me again.