"It is only for want of thought, Thomas. He has never been among the poor, to see their wants and sufferings."
"But what makes you think, and the rest all forget?"
"I expect it is because my memory is better. I could always remember my lessons at school better than the most of the pupils."
"Ah, Miss, there's more than the memory. I wish there was more rich folks like you; it would be a better world for the poor."
His words startled me, the thought had never before occurred to me that I might be rich. I went to my room, and, with more than my usual care, dressed for dinner. Compared with Esmerelda's, my gowns were getting shabby, and old-fashioned; and I concluded if I had means of my own, it was time to treat myself charitably as well as my poor acquaintances. The dinner bell rang at last, and I went down with some trepidation to meet my guardian. My conscience confronted me with my repeated words of insubordination during the day, commanding me to apologize for my rudeness; but instinct with a stronger voice counselled silence. As we took our seats at dinner, Mrs. Flaxman, I thought, with a worried expression was furtively regarding us; but she kept silent. With a good-humored smile Mr. Winthrop turned to me, saying: "Your crowd did not fall to quarrelling over the spoil, I hope."
"I wish you could have seen how good-humored they were on leaving. I think they would have talked above their breath only they were afraid."
"You did not strike me as looking particularly formidable. Indeed, I quite pitied you; for you seemed the most frightened, nervous one in the lot."
"They were not afraid of me. Even the widow Larkum's baby cooed softly until you were out of sight."
"It must be a child of amazing intelligence."
Mrs. Flaxman, looking more anxious than ever interjected a remark, not very relevantly, about the prospect of our early winter; but Mr. Winthrop allowed her remark to fall unheeded.