"She must be an oddity, then," said Polly. "I hate oddities. Do let's walk a little faster, David."
"You are wrong again," persisted David, quickening his steps. "An oddity is some one to laugh at, but no one has ever dreamed of laughing at Flower. She is just herself, like no one else in the world. No, you don't any of you know her yet. I suppose you are every one of you thinking that she's the very nicest and cleverest and perfectest girl you ever met?"
"I'm sure we are not," said Polly. "I think, for my part, there has been a great deal too much fuss made about her. I'm getting tired of her airs, and I think she was very rude just now."
"Oh, don't, Polly, you frighten me. I want to tell you something so badly. Will you treat it as a great, enormous secret? will you never reveal it, Polly?"
"What a queer boy you are," said Polly. "No, I won't tell. What's the mystery?"
"It's this. Flower is sometimes--sometimes--oh, it's dreadful to have to tell!--Flower is sometimes not nice."
"You're a darling, David!" she said. "Of course, that sister of yours is not perfect. I'd hate her if she was."
"But it isn't that," said David. "It's so difficult to tell. When Flower isn't nice, it's not a small thing, it's--oh, she's awful! Polly, I don't want any of you ever to see Flower in a passion; you'd be frightened, oh, you would indeed. We were all dreadfully unhappy at Ballarat when Flower was in a passion, and lately we tried not to get her into one. That's what I want you to do, Polly; I want you to try; I want you to see that she is not vexed."
"I like that," said Polly. "Am I to be on my 'P's and Q's' for this Miss Flower of yours? Now, David, what do you mean by a great passion? I'm rather hot myself. Come, you saw me very cross about the lemonade yesterday; is Flower worse than that? What fun it must be to see her!"
"Don't!" said David, turning pale. "You wouldn't speak in that way, Polly, if you knew. What you did yesterday like Flower? Why, I didn't notice you at all. Flower's passions are--are---- But I can't speak of them, Polly."
"Then why did you tell me?" said Polly. "I can't help her getting into rages, if she's so silly."
"Oh, yes, you can, and that's why I spoke to you. She's a little vexed now, about your having brought the--the kitchen-maid here. I know well she's vexed, because she's extra polite with every one else. That's a way she has at first. I don't suppose she'll speak to you, Polly; but oh, Polly, I will love you so much, I'll do anything in all the world for you, if only you'll send Maggie home!"