Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers
‘You are monstrous polite, ma’am,’ said Miss Price.
‘I shall not come to you to take lessons in the art, ma’am!’
retorted Miss Squeers.
‘You needn’t take the trouble to make yourself plainer than you
are, ma’am, however,’ rejoined Miss Price, ‘because that’s quite
Miss Squeers, in reply, turned very red, and thanked God that
she hadn’t got the bold faces of some people. Miss Price, in
rejoinder, congratulated herself upon not being possessed of the
envious feeling of other people; whereupon Miss Squeers made
some general remark touching the danger of associating with low
persons; in which Miss Price entirely coincided: observing that it
was very true indeed, and she had thought so a long time.
‘’Tilda,’ exclaimed Miss Squeers with dignity, ‘I hate you.’
‘Ah! There’s no love lost between us, I assure you,’ said Miss
Price, tying her bonnet strings with a jerk. ‘You’ll cry your eyes
out, when I’m gone; you know you will.’
‘I scorn your words, Minx,’ said Miss Squeers.
‘You pay me a great compliment when you say so,’ answered
the miller’s daughter, curtseying very low. ‘Wish you a very good-
night, ma’am, and pleasant dreams attend your sleep!’
With this parting benediction, Miss Price swept from the room,
followed by the huge Yorkshireman, who exchanged with
Nicholas, at parting, that peculiarly expressive scowl with which
the cut-and-thrust counts, in melodramatic performances, inform
each other they will meet again. They were no sooner gone, than
Miss Squeers fulfilled the prediction of her quondam friend by
giving vent to a most copious burst of tears, and uttering various
dismal lamentations and incoherent words. Nicholas stood looking