'My darling must be a lady,' she used to say.
She would not let me work, though I entreated her with tears in my eyes.
I used to try to deceive her even, but I never could succeed.

She loved me so, my poor mother.

She would take my hands in hers and kiss them.
'Such dainty hands, dear,' she would say, 'must not be spoiled.' After a great deal of trouble and expense, she contrived to get me an engagement as governess-pupil in a lady's school; there I did receive a good education.

One failing of my mother always filled me with wonder--she used to fancy that people watched me.

'Has any one spoken to you, darling ?' she would ask.