As Nelly looked up, she repeated her question, adding, "Are you sick?"
"No," stammered Nelly, shyly, hanging down her head.
"What is the matter?" asked the young lady. "I am sure you must be in some trouble, to cry so bitterly."
But Nelly would not tell the cause of her grief, and very likely could not have done so if she had tried.
"Do you go to Sunday-school?" asked the lady.
"No," answered Nelly.
"That is a pity! Why don't you go? I think you would like it very much."
"I haven't got any thing to wear," said Nelly; and, as if gaining confidence, she added, "I went once to the mission school up here, but the girls were all dressed so fine that I felt ashamed. They stared at me; and one of them called me a little rag-bag. I don't never mean to go there no more. What's the use?"
"She was a very impolite little girl," said Miss Powell (for that was the young lady's name). "I would not have minded her."
"You would if you was me," said Nelly.