to　degrade　me；　left—I　crept　down　a　stone　staircase　with　the　aid　of　the　banisters；　to　a　narrow　low　passage；　and　found　my　way　presently　to　the　kitchen。

It　was　full　of　the　fragrance　of　new　bread　and　the　warmth　of　a　generous　fire。　Hannah　was　baking。　Prejudices；　it　is　well　known；　are　most　difficult　to　eradicate　from　the　heart　whose　soil　has　never　been　loosened　or　fertilised　by　education：　they　grow　there；　firm　as　weeds　among　stones。　Hannah　had　been　cold　and　stiff；　indeed；　at　the　first：　latterly　she　had　begun　to　relent　a　little；　and　when　she　saw　me　e　in　tidy　and　well…dressed；　she　even　smiled。

“What；　you　have　got　up！”　she　said。　“You　are　better；　then。　You　may　sit　you　down　in　my　chair　on　the　hearthstone；　if　you　will。”

She　pointed　to　the　rocking…chair：　I　took　it。　She　bustled　about；　examining　me　every　now　and　then　with　the　corner　of　her　eye。　Turning　to　me；　as　she　took　some　loaves　from　the　oven；　she　asked　bluntly—

“Did　you　ever　go　a…begging　afore　you　came　here？”

I　was　indignant　for　a　moment；　but　remembering　that　anger　was　out　of　the　question；　and　that　I　had　indeed　appeared　as　a　beggar　to　her；　I　answered　quietly；　but　still　not　without　a　certain　marked　firmness—

“You　are　mistaken　in　supposing　me　a　beggar。　I　am　no　beggar；　any　more　than　yourself　or　your　young　ladies。”

After　a　pause　she　said；　“I　dunnut　understand　that：　you’ve　like　no　house；　nor　no　brass；　I　guess？”

“The　want　of　house　or　brass　（by　which　I　suppose　you　mean　money）　does　not　make　a　beggar　in　your　sense　of　the　word。”

“Are　you　book…learned？”　she　inquired　presently。

“Yes；　very。”

“But　you’ve　never　been　to　a　boarding…school？”

“I　was　at　a　boarding…school　eight　years。”

She　opened　her　eyes　wide。　“Whatever　cannot　ye　keep　yourself　for；　then？”