Page:Stories told to a child.djvu/24

 when that imperturbable shoe had kept its position a little longer, we almost wished she would break the silence, that this fearful suspense might be ended. But no, she neither stirred nor spoke; the most perfect quiet reigned; there was only a slight rustle now and then, which might be the turning over of a page, and which we had heard before, supposing it to be only the curtain.

We did not know what to do, we were so miserable; We gazed intently through the red folds of the drapery, and could see, by a dark shadow, that the chair was occupied. O that we had but been wise enough to notice this before! We withdrew our eyes, and, with one tearful look of condolence at one another, dropped them again upon our verses, and began to learn them with extreme diligence and humility. But still the inexorable grandmother never spoke. O, how startling would be her voice when it came!

Not a word either of us said for a long time. At length Lucy observed, in a humble, saddened voice, 'I know my parable; Sophia, dost thou?'

I had learned mine perfectly for some time, but neither of us rose. We had an idea that the first attempt on our part at leaving the room would be met by the dreaded summons; we were already enduring punishment of a very severe nature; our cheeks were dyed with shame, and our hearts beating with apprehension. At length we heard a distant step sedately and steadily mounting the stairs; now it was coming along the uncarpeted passage, then a hand was on the door, and 'sister' entered, asking us, with her usual Rh