II.—­Then there is the Peter Grievous who cannot stand a word of reproof; she is aggrieved or huffy or sulky in a minute—­she thinks that she has a delicate sense of justice, and that she does well to be angry; she feels as if her mother took a curious and selfish enjoyment in finding fault with her,—­whereas the poor mother has to take her courage in both hands before saying anything calculated to bring on those black looks.

III.—­And then there is The Snail, always slow, generally late, and frequently a martyr—­she has to be spoken to so often that her case usually develops into the Peter Grievous disease as well.  For if a mother speaks, let us say, six times—­in the daughter’s mind it ceases to be reproof, and becomes Nagging.  It never occurs to the daughter that she sinned six times (or even shall we say eight or ten?); she feels that she is being nagged at, and may therefore cease to attend, and may enjoy a grievance into the bargain!

Now, I have slow friends who really suffer from a sense of their failing, and who realize acutely what they make others suffer; they were not trained at first to pull themselves together and to collect beforehand any materials they were likely to want (as you can train yourselves by settling in properly to do your preparation)—­and they did not teach themselves to start five minutes sooner instead of leaving things to the last moment. (They think that the consequent family thundercloud is their sad fate from their being of a slow constitution.) But if you have only one horse and your neighbour two, and you are to dine at the same house, it only means that you must order yours earlier.  Do not start together and then bewail your sad fate; nothing condemns you to be late except your own bad management.

Especially be careful to be up early when you are going to early service with your mother; it fidgets her to wait—­she recalls all your many previous sins of the same kind—­and just when you both want to feel at one, you start off together (rather, I should say, you overtake her), both feeling very much at two.  And yet you made an effort to go! and you feel she ought to be pleased with you—­do not spoil it by that fly in the ointment of being late.

* * * * *

It seems to me that the Benevolent Despot, the Peter Grievous, and the Martyred Snail, are people to avoid in choosing your family!

Now, the people to choose for your family party are, first, the Reliable Person.  I know one person who is a perfect tower of strength, she is full of common sense:  if you give her a commission she is sure to get the right thing and to do it reasonably; she knows exactly what she paid, and she tells you!  If she undertakes to do a thing it is certain to be done in good time; she does not wait till the very day the thing is wanted and then find that it cannot be got.