"Mrs. Connor, my father is Mr. Raymond, the clergyman. I came to see
if you would let Nelly come to our house every day to learn to read.
It's a great pity she shouldn't know how."

"I don't care who your father is," retorted the woman in the same
insolent tone. "I don't see what you've got to do with it, whether
it's a pity or not. The child's lazy enough already, without havin'
them idees put into her head; and better people than her do without
book-learning."

"Lucy, do come away! I shan't stop to listen to her impudence,"
exclaimed Stella as she turned and walked away with a haughty air.
Mrs. Connor's quick eye followed her, and she half muttered to
herself, "A city gal!" Then, taking up the pail which Nelly had set
down, she went into the house without vouchsafing another look at
Lucy, who, seeing the uselessness of pressing her point, hastened to
join her cousin.

"Now you see, Lucy, you only get yourself insulted trying to do any
good to such people," said Stella triumphantly. "I remember one of
Sophy's friends once wanted her to go visiting poor people with her,
and papa said he wouldn't have her go on any account; it was all
nonsense running all sorts of risks to do good to people who didn't
want it."

"But it wasn't Mrs. Connor, but Nelly, that I wanted to do good to,
and she can't help what her odious stepmother does. Only think what
it must be to live with her!"

"I'd run away! But you see Nelly herself didn't seem to care about