d to understand my thoughts.

"You think I am stunted, don't you?"

"You are not large to my eye."

"Suppose you had been fed mostly on Indian meal, with a herring or a
piece of salted pork for a relish, and clams or tautog for a luxury,
as I have been, would you be as tall and as grand-looking as you are
now? And would you be covering up your face, making believe worry?"

"May be not. You may tell mother that I am coming."

"I shall not say 'Miss Morgeson,' but 'Cassandra.' 'Cassandra
Morgeson,' if I like."

"Call me what you please, only tone down that voice of yours; it is
sharper than the east wind."

I heard her beating a tattoo on Veronica's door next. She had been
taught to be ceremonious with her, at least. No reply was made, and
she came to my door again. "I expect Miss Veronica has gone to see
poor folks; it is a way _she_ has," and spitefully closed it.

After tea mother came up to inquire the reason of my seclusion. My
excuse of fatigue she readily accepted, for she thought I still looked
ill. I had changed so much, she said, it made her heart ache to look
at me. When I could speak of the accident at Rosville, would I tell
her all? And would I describe my life there; what friends I had made;
would they visit me? She hoped so. And Mr. Somers, who made them so
hurried a visit, would he come? She liked him. While she talked, she
kept a pitying but resolute eye upon me.

"Dear mother, I never can tell you all, as you wish. It is hard
enough for me to bear my thoughts, without the additional one that my
feelings are understood and speculated upon. If I should tell you, the
barrier between me and self-control would give way. You will see Alice
Morgeson, and if she chooses she can tell you what my life was in her
house. She knows it well."

"Cassandra, what does your bitter face and voice mean?"

"I mean, mother, all your woman's heart might guess, if you were not
so pure, so single-hearted."

"No, no, no."

"Yes."

"Then I understand the riddle you have been, one to bring a curse."

"There is nothing to curse, mother; our experiences are not foretold
by law. We may be righteous by rule, we do not sin that way. There was
no beginning, no end, to mine."

"Should women curse themselves, then, for giving birth to daughters?"

"Wait, mother; what is bad this year may be good the next. You blame
yourself, because you believe your ignorance has brought me into
danger. Wait, mother."

"You are beyo