what enters into a man defiles him, but only what comes out of him;
hence, that no man's dignity is affected by what another does to him,
but only by what he does, or would like to do, himself.

She did, however, feel a little shy on entering "the room," where all
the livery and most of the women servants were already seated at
breakfast. Two of the men, with a word to each other, made room for her
between them, and laughed; but she took no notice, and seated herself
at the bottom of the table with her companion. Everything was as clean
and tidy as heart could wish, and Mary was glad enough to make a good
meal.

For a few minutes there was loud talking--from a general impulse to
show off before the stranger; then fell a silence, as if some feeling
of doubt had got among them. The least affected by it was the footman
who had opened the door to her: he had witnessed her reception by Mrs.
Perkin. Addressing her boldly, he expressed a hope that she was not too
much fatigued by her journey. Mary thanked him in her own natural,
straightforward way, and the consequence was, that, when he spoke to
her next, he spoke like a gentleman--in the tone natural to him, that
is, and in the language of the parlor, without any mock-politeness.
And, although the way they talked among themselves made Mary feel as if
she were in a strange country, with strange modes, not of living
merely, but of feeling and of regarding, she received not the smallest
annoyance during the rest of the meal--which did not last long: Mrs.
Perkin took care of that.

For an hour or more, after the rest had scattered to their respective
duties, she was left alone. Then Mrs. Perkin sent for her.

When she entered her room, she found her occupied with the cook, and
was allowed to stand unnoticed.

"When shall I be able to see Mrs. Redmain, ma'am?" she asked, when the
cook at length turned to go.

"Wait," rejoined Mrs. Perkin, with a quiet dignity, well copied, "until
you are addressed, young woman."--Then first casting a glance at her,
and perhaps perceiving on her countenance a glimmer of the amusement
Mary felt, she began to gather a more correct suspicion of the sort of
being she might possibly be, and hastily added, "Pray, take a seat."

The idea of making a blunder was unendurable to Mrs. Perkin, and she
was most unwilling to believe she had done so; but, even if she had, to
show that she knew it would only be to render it the more difficult to
recover