Between Pet and her teacher a feeling of sisterly affection had sprung up.  Miss Pillbody turned with a feeling of relief from her dull elderly pupils, stiff in manners, and firmly set in their habits, to this fresh, impressible young creature.  What she did conscientiously to the others for pay, she would have done to Pet for love, had not her bills been settled in advance.  Whenever Miss Pillbody had a spare hour or two, afforded by the indisposition of one of her older scholars (from excessive fatigue occasioned by a dinner party or other laborious hospitality the night before), she would send the red-headed servant to Mr. Minford’s, and notify Pet, who was only too happy to go to her beloved teacher, and take an extra lesson.

Mrs. Crull could not be called a promising pupil.  Her intentions were excellent.  Her patience and her good nature were unbounded.  She was always punctual at her lessons.  Neither cold nor storm could keep her away.  While she was in the schoolroom, she would resolutely deny herself the pleasure of indulging in more than a dozen episodes on the fashions and bits of scandal which she picked up in her cruise through society.

With the exception of these little wanderings, she would go through her recitations with as much correctness and docility as a sharp-witted child of twelve years.  She felt a childlike pride in gaining the approval of her teacher.  When she was under Miss Pillbody’s instructions, and knew that every mistake would be courteously but firmly corrected on the spot (the teacher’s invariable custom), she kept such a guard upon her tongue that she sometimes read or conversed in long sentences without making a single error.  But when she was out of Miss Pillbody’s sight, there were certain blunders which she fell into as surely as she opened her mouth.

Sometimes Mrs. Crull and Pet would meet on the doorsteps of Miss Pillbody’s house—­the one going in and the other coming out—­or on the sidewalk in the neighborhood.  Mrs. Crull would catch the child by both hands, smack her heartily on the cheek (no matter how public the kiss), and then a conversation something like this would follow: 

“How bright and pretty you look this mornin’, my darlin!” (Mrs. Crull could not remember to pick up the “g’s,” except under Miss Pillbody’s eye, and then not always.)

“Thank you, Mrs. Crull; I am quite well.  How are you, marm?”

“Oh! smart as a trap.  Haven’t known not a sick day these ten years.”  (Mrs. Crull was weak on the double negatives.)

“How do you get along?” From motives of delicacy, Pet never added, “in your studies.”

“Well, I don’t mind tellin’ you, as you are my confidential little friend.”  Here Mrs. Crull would look around cautiously, to be sure no one was listening.  “The other studies isn’t so hard, but grammar knocks me.”  (Mrs. Crull’s nominatives and verbs were irreconcilable.)

Then Pet would say, telling an innocent fib: