And gradually, as Fanny's notions of right and wrong grew clearer and firmer, she felt less and less of a desire to inquire after the members of her own family.

At last it came to this--that when, one day, having obtained Teresa's permission to go somewhere, she suddenly came face to face in the street with Matilda, who was riding in an open carriage, she fled terror-stricken into the court-yard of the house where dwelt a lady of her acquaintance, in order that her sister might not see her.
Teresa heard of this, and ever afterwards treated Fanny much more tenderly.
One day, while sitting at her work, the girl sighed heavily.

Teresa knew at once that she was thinking of her relatives.
"Why do you sigh ?" she asked.
"Poor Matilda!" said the girl; and she spoke with quite genuine emotion, for she really did pity her sister who rode in a carriage and wore Brabant lace, while she herself was so happy at home over her sewing.
Teresa made no reply, but, full of emotion, she clasped the child to her breast.

God had at last rewarded her for all the labours and anxieties of the last three years, for Fanny was now saved, and doubtless reserved for a happier future.
And, indeed, poverty in itself is not such a very great calamity, after all.

Those who have a close acquaintance with it will tell you that it possesses joys of its own which are not to be bought with heaps of gold pieces.