Do you put it, Johanna.

I don't think she could look at you and tell you a story." Other people, at sight of that sweet, grave face, its bloom faded, and hairs silvered long before their time, yet beautiful, with an almost childlike simplicity and childlike peace--most other people would have been of Hilary's opinion.
"Sit down; I'll call her.

Dear me, Johanna, we shall have to set up a bell as well as a servant, unless we had managed to combine the two." But Hilary's harmless little joke failed to make her sister smile; and the entrance of the girl seemed to excite positive apprehension.
How was it possible to make excuse to a servant for her mistress's shortcomings?
how scold for ill-doing this young girl, to whom, ere she had been a night in the house, so bad an example had been set?
Johanna half expected Elizabeth to take a leaf out of Selina's book and begin abusing herself and Hilary.
No: she stood very sheepish, very uncomfortable, but not in the least bold or sulky--on the whole, looking rather penitent and humble.
Her mistress took courage.
"Elizabeth I want you to tell me the truth about that unfortunate breakage.

Don't be afraid.

I had rather you broke every thing in the house than have told me what was not true." "It was true; it was the cat." "How could that be possible?
You were coming down stairs with the ewer in your hand." "Her got under my feet, and throwed me down, and so I tumbled, and smashed the thing agin the floor." The Misses Leaf glanced at each other.