"'I don't like that boy,' answered Bernard; 'that David Griffith.'
"'Never mind him, never mind him, Master Low,' replied Miss Evans; 'any time that he don't make himself agreeable, only come to me; I am always glad to see you here to sit in my parlour, and warm yourself if it is cold. You know how much I respect your papa and mamma; there is nothing I would not do for them.'
"Bernard had been so much used to flattery and fond words, that he did not value them at all; he thought that they were only his due; and he did not so much as say 'Thank you' to Miss Evans, nor even look smiling nor pleasant; but he walked up to her round table, and
curiously eyed the large worsted stocking which she was darning—'Whose is that?' he said.
"'My brother's, Master Low,' she answered.
"'Does he wear such things as those?' said Bernard; 'but I suppose he must, because he is poor, and a curate, and a schoolmaster—my papa wears silk.'
"'Your papa,' said Miss Evans, 'is a rich man, Master Low, and a rector; and he can afford many things we must not think of.'
"'When shall we dine?' asked the boy.
"'Very soon, my dear,' answered Miss Evans.
"And then Master Bernard turned off to some other question, as impertinently expressed as those he had put before.