The strangeness of her surroundings kept her quiet a moment longer, and
in that moment she discovered that by putting one eye to a loosely-woven
spot in the hamper she could see what Mrs. Triplett was doing. She was
polishing the silver porringer, trying to rub out the dent which the fall
had made in its side. It was such an interesting kitchen, seen through
this peep-hole that Georgina became absorbed in rolling her eye around
for wider views. Then she found another outlook on the other side of the
hamper, and was quiet so long that Mrs. Triplett came over and peered
down at her to see what was the matter. Georgina looked up at her with a
roguish smile. One never knew how she was going to take a punishment or
what she would do next.

"Are you ready to be a little lady now? Want me to lift you out?" Both
little arms were stretched joyously up to her, and a voice of angelic
sweetness said coaxingly: "_Pleathe_, Tippy."

The porringer was in Mrs. Triplett's hand when she leaned over the hamper
to ask the question. The gleam of its freshly-polished sides caught
Georgina's attention an instant before she was lifted out, and it was
impressed on her memory still more deeply by being put into her own hands
afterwards as she sat in Mrs. Triplett's lap. Once more her tiny finger's
tip was made to trace the letters engraved around the rim, as she was
told about her great-great aunt and what was expected of her. The solemn
tone clutched her attention as firmly as the hand which held her, and
somehow, before she was set free, she was made to feel that because of
that old porringer she was obliged to be a little lady.

Tippy was not one who could sit calmly by and see a child suffer for lack
of proper instruction, and while Georgina never knew just how it was