"You surprise me. And it is not a little ungrateful."
"I don't want to be grateful to him. And mother, I don't like him to bring oysters here!"
"Why shouldn't he, if he likes? I am sorry to see such pride in you,
Rotha. It is very foolish, my child."
"Mother, it looks as if he knew we were poor."
"He knows it, of course. Am I not making his shirts?"
Rotha was silent, clearing away the dishes and oyster shells with a good deal of decision and dissatisfaction revealed in her movements.
"Everybody knows it, my child."
"I do not mind everybody. I just mind him. He is different. Why is he different, mother?"
"I suppose the difference you mean is, that he is a gentleman."
"And what are we?" said Rotha, suddenly standing still to put the question.