"The worst of it is," said Nina, "when Aunt Nesbit speaks to me in her hateful way, I get angry; then I speak in a way that isn't proper, I know. Oh, if she only would get angry with me back again! or if she'd do anything in the world but stand still, in her still way, telling me she is astonished at me! That's a lie, too; for she never was astonished at anything in her life! She hasn't life enough to be!"

"Ah, Miss Nina, we mustn't spect more of folks than there is in them."

"Expect? I don't expect!"

"Well, bless you, honey, when you knows what folks is, don't let's worry. Ye can't fill a quart-cup out of a thimble, honey, no way you can fix it. There's just whar 't is. I knowed your ma, and I's knowed Miss Loo, ever since she was a girl. 'Pears like they wan't no more alike than snow is like sugar. Miss Loo, when she was a girl, she was that pretty that everybody was wondering after her; but to de love, dat ar went after your ma. Couldn't tell why it was, honey. 'Peared like Miss Loo wan't techy, nor she wan't one of your bursting-out sort, scolding round. 'Peared like she'd never hurt nobody; and yet our people, they couldn't none of dem bar her. 'Peared like nobody did nothing for her with a will."

"Well, good reason!" said Nina; "she never did anything for anybody else with a will! She never cared for anybody! Now, I'm selfish; I always knew it. I do a great many selfish things; but it's a different kind from hers. Do you know, Milly, she don't seem to know she is selfish? There she sits, rocking in her old chair, so sure she's going straight to heaven, and don't care whether anybody else gets there or not!"

"Oh laws, now, Miss Nina, you's too hard on her. Why, look how patient she sits with Tomtit, teaching him his hymns and varses."

"And you think that's because she cares anything about him? Do you know she thinks he isn't fit to go to heaven, and that if he dies he'll go to the bad place. And yet, if he was to die tomorrow, she'd talk to you about clear-starching her caps! No wonder the child don't love her! She talks to him just as she does to me; tells him she don't expect anything of him—she knows he'll never come to any good; and the little wretch has got it by heart, now. Do you know that, though I get in a passion with Tom, sometimes, and though I'm sure I should perish sitting boring with him over those old books, yet I really believe I care more for him than she does? And he knows it, too. He sees through her as plain as I do. You'll never make me believe that Aunt Nesbit has got religion. I know there is such a thing as religion; but she hasn't got it. It isn't all being sober, and crackling old stiff religious newspapers, and boring with texts and hymns, that makes people religious. She is just as wordly minded as I am, only it's in another way. There, now, I wanted her to advise me about something, today. Why, Milly, all girls want somebody to talk with; and if she'd only showed the least interest in what I said, she might scold me and lecture me as much as she'd a mind to. But, to have her not even hear me! And when she must have seen that I was troubled and perplexed, and wanted somebody to advise me, she turned round so cool, and began to talk about the onions and the stuffing! Got me so angry! I suppose she is in her room, now, rocking, and thinking what a sinner I am!"