"Why, Mary!" said Harriet, "what then would become of your books and Miss Bennett?"—this was the name of Mary's governess.
"I would not care what became of them," said Mary, hastily, then added: "Oh yes, I would care what became of Miss Bennett,—but as for the books—"
"Send them to me, Mary," said Jessie, "send them to me, if you are tired of them, and send Miss Bennett with them."
"Why, Jessie, do you want to study lessons?"
"I don't know about the studying, Mary, how I should like that,—but I would be willing to try, rather than be a poor ignorant girl without any schooling, as Nancy Orme called me the other day."
I saw old Mrs. Graham turn quickly round at this, and heard her ask Jessie, "And what did you say to Nancy Orme?"
"Nothing, grandmother,—what could I say to her? It is the truth, you know."
"It is not the truth," said Mrs. Graham, "and you are a silly child to say so."
"Why, grandmother, what schooling have I ever had? You have taught me to read, and father has begun to teach me to write, and that is all I know or am like to know."
"You are a silly child, Jessie, as I said before. You have had the schooling which is better for little Jessie Graham, the gardener's daughter, than any that Miss Bennett and her books could give."