Ned, who prided himself considerably on his sex, had been
sitting all the morning, in his father's arm-chair, in the little
book-room, "studying," as he chose to call it. Sometimes Maggie would pop
her head in, with a request that he would help her to carry the great
pitcher of water up-stairs, or do some other little household service;
with which request he occasionally complied, but with so many complaints
about the interruption, that at last she told him she would never ask
him again. Gently as this was said, he yet felt it as a reproach, and
tried to excuse himself.
"You see, Maggie, a man must be educated to be a gentleman. Now, if a woman
knows how to keep a house, that's all that is wanted from her. So my time
is of more consequence than yours. Mamma says I'm to go to college, and be
a clergyman; so I must get on with my Latin."
Maggie submitted in silence; and almost felt it as an act of gracious
condescension when, a morning or two afterwards, he came to meet her as
she was toiling in from the well, carrying the great brown jug full of
spring-water ready for dinner. "Here," said he, "let us put it in the shade
behind the horse-mount. Oh, Maggie! look what you've done! Spilt it all,
with not turning quickly enough when I told you. Now you may fetch it again
for yourself, for I'll have nothing to do with it."
"I did not understand you in time," said she, softly.
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