"Ask me no more, child!" "Oh, do pray tell me something of her.

Do now, at last, dear godmother, if you please! What did I do to her?
How did I lose her?
Why am I so different from other children, and why is it my fault, dear godmother?
No, no, no, don't go away.

Oh, speak to me!" I was in a kind of fright beyond my grief, and I caught hold of her dress and was kneeling to her.

She had been saying all the while, "Let me go!" But now she stood still.
Her darkened face had such power over me that it stopped me in the midst of my vehemence.

I put up my trembling little hand to clasp hers or to beg her pardon with what earnestness I might, but withdrew it as she looked at me, and laid it on my fluttering heart.