Read "Monteagle" by Pansy online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
DILLY sat still with her book, a little sorrowful; it seemed to her that she needed some help, though she hardly knew what, and Mr. Hart did not seem to be the person to help her. Effie was very busy just then, gathering all the bright flowers within her reach and carefully pulling them to bits, so she gave no trouble beyond an occasional glance, and left Dilly to her own thoughts. What should she decide? It seemed to her that somebody stood near at hand, waiting for what she was going to say. For some reason which she did not understand, Mr. Hart had discouraged her; made her feel that the whole question was beyond her; that she was too young to busy her mind with it; he had not said so in words, but he had contrived to make her feel that he thought so. Dilly was sure this was very different from what the morning teacher of the children had tried to do.
"And if they are old enough," said Dilly, "then I was, years and years ago; and I've been 'called' a great many times; yet I can't seem to decide that I shall do any differently from what I have always been doing."