Emma knew and answered promptly and cheerfully. She would be whipped,
and that severely.
Anne turned this over in her mind. She was very much afraid of the rod
which had seldom been used to correct her--but a whipping did not last
long, after all, and it would be far worse to give up her beautiful new
playhouse. If Miss Farlow wished to whip her for going there, why, Miss
Farlow would have to do it. Grown-up people had to have their way. But
she wondered if Miss Farlow would not just as lief whip her before she
went as after she came back. It would be a pity to spoil the beautiful
afternoon with expectation of punishment.
After prayers next Saturday morning, Anne lingered near Miss Farlow's
desk.
"Do you wish to speak to me, Anne Lewis?" asked that lady, frowning over
a handful of bills.
"If you please--wouldn't you as soon--won't you please whip me before I
go out of bounds?" she requested.
"What's that you're saying, Anne Lewis? What do you mean?" asked Miss
Farlow.
Anne explained.
"Pity sake!" the bewildered lady exclaimed. She looked at Anne over her
spectacles, then took them off and stared as if trying to find out what
kind of a queer little creature this was.
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