We shall both feel differently then.

I would not have you yield to the dictates of passion, neither would I have you forfeit your self-respect.

I must not rashly counsel." "I would not let her go back at all," exclaimed a firm, decided voice.
"They ain't fit to hold the water to wash her hands." "Peggy," said my mother, rebukingly, "you forget yourself." "I always try to do that," she replied, while she placed on the table my customary supper of bread and milk.
"Yes, indeed you do," answered my mother, gratefully,--"kind and faithful friend.

But humility becometh my child better than pride." Peggy looked hard at my mother, with a mixture of reverence, pity, and admiration in her clear, honest eye, then taking a coarse towel, she rubbed a large silver spoon, till it shone brighter and brighter, and laid it by the side of my bowl.

She had first spread a white napkin under it, to give my simple repast an appearance of neatness and gentility.