I heard no sound while
I was undressing, nor while I knelt, as usual now, by my
bedside. But as I rose from my knees I was startled by a sort
of grunt that came from St. Clair's corner.
"Humph! — Dear me! We're so good, — Grace and Devotion, —
Christian grace, too!"
"Hold your tongue, St. Clair," said Miss Macy, but not in a
way, I thought, to check her; if she could have been checked.
"But it's too bad, Macy," said the girl. "We're all so rough,
you know. We don't know how to behave ourselves; we can't make
curtsies; our mothers never taught us anything, — and dancing
masters are no good. We ought to go to Egypt. There isn't
anything so truly dignified as a pyramid. There is a great
deal of _? plomb_ there!"
"Who talked about _? plomb_?" said Miss Bentley.
"You have enough of that, at any rate, Faustina," said
Lansing.
"Mrs. St. Clair's child ought to have that," said Miss Macy.
"Ah, but it isn't Christian grace, after all," persisted
Faustina. "You want a cross at the top of a pyramid to make it
perfect.
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