But _never_ had she been kinder.

It was past dinner time, but she ordered tea for me an hour earlier than her usual time, and sent down word that the cook was to bake some girdle-cakes, as she knew I was fond of them.

And what a nice tea we might have had but for the uncomfortable little voice that kept whispering to me that I did not deserve all this kindness, that I was deceiving my grandmother, which was far worse than breaking twenty cups.

I felt quite provoked with myself for feeling so uneasy.

I had thought I should have felt quite comfortable and happy once the cup was restored.