but it didn't do any good

"I've stood up to father!" she exclaimed triumphantly as she entered the kitchen and set down her yellow bowl of eggs on the table. "I stood up to him, and answered him back three times!" Waitstill was busy with her Saturday morning cooking, but she turned in alarm. "Patty, what have you said and done? Tell me quickly!" "I 'argyfied,' but it didn't do any good; he won't let me go to Ellen's party." Waitstill wiped her floury hands and put them on her sister's shoulders. "Hear what I say, Patty: you must not argue with father, whatever he says. We don't love him and so there isn't the right respect in our hearts, but at least there can be respect in our manners." "I don't believe I can go on for years, holding in, Waitstill!" Patty whimpered. "Yes, you can. I have!" "You're different, Waitstill." "I wasn't so different at sixteen, but that's five years ago, and I've got control of my tongue and my temper since then. Sometime, perhaps, when I have a grievance too great to be rightly borne, sometime when you are away from here in a home of your own, I shall speak out to father; just empty my heart of all the disappointment and bitterness and rebellion. Somebody ought to tell him the truth, and perhaps it will be me!" "I wish it could be me," exclaimed Patty vindictively, and with an equal disregard of grammar. "You would speak in temper, I'm afraid, Patty, and that would spoil all. I'm sorry you can't go up to Ellen's," she sighed, turning back to her work; "you don't have pleasure enough for one of your age; still, don't fret; something may happen to change things, and anyhow the weather is growing warmer, and you and I have so many more outings in summer-time. Smooth down your hair, child; there are straws in it, and it's all rough with the wind. I don't like flying hair about a kitchen." "I wish my hair was flying somewhere a thousand miles from here; or at least I should wish it if it did not mean leaving you; for oh. I'm so miserable and disappointed and unhappy!"