She looked at me and said-- "Margaret Dawson, what will this world come to ?" And then she was silent.
The lad, beginning to perceive he had given deep offence, stood stock still--as if his brave will had brought him into this presence, and impelled him to confession, and the best amends he could make, but had now deserted him, or was extinct, and left his body motionless, until some one else with word or deed made him quit the room.

My lady looked again at him, and saw the frowning, dumb-foundering terror at his misdeed, and the manner in which his confession had been received.
"My poor lad!" said she, the angry look leaving her face, "into whose hands have you fallen ?" The boy's lips began to quiver.
"Don't you know what tree we read of in Genesis ?--No! I hope you have not got to read so easily as that." A pause.

"Who has taught you to read and write ?" "Please, my lady, I meant no harm, my lady." He was fairly blubbering, overcome by her evident feeling of dismay and regret, the soft repression of which was more frightening to him than any strong or violent words would have been.
"Who taught you, I ask ?" "It were Mr.Horner's clerk who learned me, my lady." "And did Mr.Horner know of it ?" "Yes, my lady.

And I am sure I thought for to please him." "Well! perhaps you were not to blame for that.

But I wonder at Mr.
Horner.