She saw well enough that her story had made no sort of impression upon her child. Angelica was still so young that what happened to other people and what happened to her had no connection in her mind. She fancied that all her experiences, as well as all her ideas, were unique. Her mother could read in her face that she was thinking now, not of her mother’s past, but of her own future.
"I hope you’ll be sensible," she said again. "Try to learn to be satisfied with your lot in life. That’s how all my troubles began—being discontented. Try to be satisfied."
"No, I shan’t," said her rebellious child. "Listen, mommer!"
"Well?"
"I was thinking. I don’t know—but I thought—maybe there’s something in this."
She handed her mother a scrap torn from a newspaper.
CHEERFUL young lady wanted as companion for invalid; experience unnecessary. Apply Thursday morning to Mrs. Russell, Buena Vista, Baycliff, Westchester.
"But, deary, don’t you see?" cried her mother, startled. "You don’t mean that you’d try for that?"
"Why not, mother?" demanded Angelica, flushing.
"But, deary, don’t you see? It’s—they’ll—they wouldn’t want a girl like you."