Her bosom was heaving in a distressful manner that I greatly pitied, but I thought it better not to speak.
"I wish I was dead!" she broke out.

"I wish we were all dead.

It would be a great deal better for us." In a moment afterwards, she knelt on the ground at my side, hid her face in my dress, passionately begged my pardon, and wept.

I comforted her and would have raised her, but she cried no, no; she wanted to stay there! "You used to teach girls," she said, "If you could only have taught me, I could have learnt from you! I am so very miserable, and I like you so much!" I could not persuade her to sit by me or to do anything but move a ragged stool to where she was kneeling, and take that, and still hold my dress in the same manner.

By degrees the poor tired girl fell asleep, and then I contrived to raise her head so that it should rest on my lap, and to cover us both with shawls.