She felt it a sore thing enough; but it never humiliated nor angered her.

Either she was too proud or not proud enough; but her low estate always seemed to her too simply external a thing to affect her relations with the world outside.

She never thought of being annoyed with the shopkeeper, who, though he trusted her with the sixpence, carefully took down her name and address: still less to suspecting the old lady opposite, who sat and listened to the transaction--apparently a well-to-do customer, clad in a rich black silk and handsome sable furs--of looking down upon her and despising her.

She herself never despised any body, except for wickedness.
So she waited contentedly, neither thinking of herself, nor of what others thought of her; but with her mind quietly occupied by the two thoughts, which in any brief space of rest always recurred, calming down all annoyances, and raising her above the level of petty pains--Johanna and Robert Lyon.

Under the influence of these her tired face grew composed, and there was a wishful, far away, fond look in her eyes, which made it not wonderful that the said old lady--apparently an acute old soul in her way--should watch her, as we do occasionally watch strangers in whom we have become suddenly interested.
There is no accounting for these interests, or to the events to which they give rise.