"Here's your room," said Rosie, setting down the candle on the table, "and now I'm going to give you a good spanking before you go to bed."
"If you touch me again I'll scream and tell Miss Starbrow everything," said Fan, plucking up a spirit.
Rosie shut and locked the door. "Now you can scream your loudest, cat, and she'll not hear a sound."
For a few moments Fan did not know what to do to save herself; then all at once the memory of some old violent wrangle came to her aid, and springing forward she blew out the candle and softly retreated to a corner of the room, where she remained silent and expectant.
"You little wretch!" exclaimed the other. "Speak, or I'll kill you!" But there was no answer. For some time Rosie stumbled about until she found the door, and after some jeering words retreated downstairs, leaving Fan in the dark.
She had defeated her enemy this time, and quickly locking the door, went to bed without a light.
The next few days, although very sweet and full to Fan, were uneventful; then, early on a Wednesday evening, once more Miss Starbrow made her sit with her at her bedroom fire and talked to her for a long time.
"What did you tell me your name is?" she asked.
"I don't like it. I call it _horrid_. It was only your stepfather's name according to your account, and I must find you a different one. Do you know what your mother's name was--before she married, I mean?"
"Oh yes, ma'am; it was Margaret Affleck."
"Affleck. It is not common and not ugly. Frances Affleck--that sounds better. Yes, that will do; your name, as long as you live with me, shall be Affleck; you must not forget that."
"No, ma'am," Fan replied humbly. But she had some doubts, and after a while said, "But can you change my name, ma'am?"
"Change your name! Why, of course I can. It is just as easy to do that as to give you a new dress; easier in fact. And what do you know, Fan? What did they teach you at the Board School? Reading, I suppose; very well, take this book and read to me."
She took the book, but felt strangely nervous at this unexpected call to display her accomplishments, and began hurriedly reading in a low voice.
"I can't stand that, Fan," she said. "You might be gabbling Dutch or Hindustani. And you are running on without a single pause. Even a bee hovering about the flowers has an occasional comma, or colon, or full stop in its humming. Try once more, but not so fast and a little louder."