"I won't go till I've seen papa. If he says I'm to go, I will of
course; but I won't go for you."

"You _will_, and you _won't_!" she repeated, standing staring at me,
as I leisurely, but with hands trembling partly with fear, partly with
rage, was fastening my nether garments to my waistcoat. "That's all
very fine, but I know something a good deal finer. Now wash your
face."

"I won't, so long as you stand there," I said, and sat down on the
floor. She advanced towards me.

"If you touch me, I'll scream," I cried.

She stopped, thought for a moment, and bounced out of the room. But I
heard her turn the key of the door.

I proceeded with my dressing as fast as I could then; and the moment I
was ready, opened the window, which was only a few feet from the
ground, scrambled out, and dropped. I hurt myself a little, but not
much, and fled for the harbour of Kirsty's arms. But as I turned the
corner of the house I ran right into Mrs. Mitchell's, who received me
with no soft embrace. In fact I was rather severely scratched with
a. pin in the bosom of her dress.

"There! that serves you right," she cried. "That's a judgment on you
for trying to run away again. After all the trouble you gave us
yesterday too! You are a bad boy."

"Why am I a bad boy?" I retorted.