So there they stood, those two antagonists, the woman with her eyes
snapping and the outraged child with the tears streaming.

"Felicia," the Major's tone was terrifying, "you must apologize at
once!"

Felicia was silent. She shook her head. The Major bowed to the French
woman. "I apologize for her," he continued. "But I think Mademoiselle
D'Ormy, you are right. She is growing into a woman and you are growing
into a child--" And whatever else he said after Felice had fled to the
garden doesn't matter. Yet two days later when Mademoiselle bade her
farewell the two enemies flung themselves on each others' necks and
wept. Much to the disgust of the Major, who fairly shoved Mademoiselle
away and who appeared not to see the sobbing and impetuous young
person who dashed headlong to the nursery.

But after that life was much more serene, much sweeter. To be sure she
could no longer ransack the storeroom. She never had to explain to the
Major what had occasioned that last tempestuous quarrel but she roamed
at will through the whole dusty house and possessed herself gloriously
of all its treasures.

You should have seen her in those days, tricking herself out in what
finery she could muster from the walnut bureau. For after
Mademoiselle's departure the afternoon chess prolonged itself into
twilight and Felicia proudly dined with the Major instead of in the
nursery.

She knew how one should look for dinner because there was Maman's