“I!” exclaimed Mary, and her tone conveyed the most positive refusal to obey this behest.  She sprang to her feet, and with flashing eyes, she cried:  “We are not Greeks, neither she nor I, and I can tell you once for all that she is not my kind and welcome visitor, nor my friend any more!  We have nothing, nothing whatever to do with each other any more!”

“Are you gone mad?” cried Eudoxia, and her long face assumed a threatening expression, while she rose from her easy-chair in spite of the increasing heat, intending to capture her pupil and compel her to apologize; but Mary was more nimble than the middle-aged damsel and fled down the alley towards the river, as nimble as a gazelle.

Eudoxia began to run after her; but the heat was soon too much for her, and when she stopped, exhausted and panting, she perceived that Katharina, worthy once more of her name of “water-wagtail,” had flown past her and was chasing the little girl at a pace that she shuddered to contemplate.  Mary soon saw that no one but Katharina was in pursuit; she moderated her pace, and awaited her cast-off friend under the shade of a tall shrub.  In a moment Katharina was facing her; with a heightened color she seized both her hands and exclaimed passionately: 

“What was it you said?  You—­you—­If I did not know what a wrong-headed little simpleton you were, I could . . . .”

“You could accuse me falsely!—­But now, leave go of my hands or I will bite you.  And as Katharina, at this threat, released her she went on vehemently.

“Oh!  I know you now—­since yesterday!  And I tell you, once for all, I say thank you for nothing for such friends.  You ought to sink into the earth for shame of the sin you have committed.  I am only ten years old, but rather than have done such a thing I would have let myself be shut up in that hot hole with poor, innocent Perpetua, or I would have let myself be killed, as you want poor, honest Hiram to be!  Oh, shame!”

Katharina’s crimson cheeks bad turned pale at this address and, as she had no answer ready, she could only toss her head and say, with as much pride and dignity as she could assume: 

“What can a child like you know about things that puzzle the heads of grown-up people?”

“Grown-up people!” laughed Mary, who was not three inches shorter than her antagonist.  “You must be a great deal taller before I call you grown up!  In two years time, you will scarcely be up to my eyes.”  At this the irascible Egyptian fired up; she gave the child a slap in the face with the palm of her hand.  Mary only stood still as if petrified, and after gazing at the ground for a minute or two without a cry, she turned her back on her companion and silently went back into the shaded walk.