There was nothing more hateful to Albinia than dawdling. She left
the girls' choice of employments, but insisted on their being
veritably occupied, and many a time did she encounter a killing
glance from Sophia for attacking her listless, moody position in her
chair, or saying, in clear, alert tones, 'My dear, when you read,
read, when you work, work. When you fix your eye in that way, you
are doing neither.'
Lucy's brisk, active disposition, and great good-humour, had
responded to this treatment; she had been obliging, instead of
officious; repeated checks had improved her taste; her love of petty
bustle was directed to better objects, and though nothing could make
her intellectual or deep, she was a really pleasant assistant and
companion, and no one, except grandmamma, who thought her perfect
before, could fail to perceive how much more lady-like her tones,
manners, and appearance had become.
The results with Sophy had been directly the reverse. At first she
had followed her sister's lead, except that she was always sincere,
and often sulky; but the more Lucy had yielded to Albinia's moulding,
the more had Sophy diverged from her, as if out of the very spirit of
contradiction. Her intervals of childish nonsense had well nigh
disappeared; her indifference to lessons was greater than ever,
though she devoured every book that came in her way in a silent, but
absorbed manner, a good deal like her father.
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