disposition to which she is altogether uncongenial, and may have
made up her mind not to keep my company any longer. Or she may feel
herself, all at once, above me. And I'm not the one, I can tell you,
to cringe to any living mortal. I am as good as she is, or any one
else!"

"Gently, gently, Louisa! Don't fall into the very fault you condemn
in Maria; that of imagining a sentiment to be entertained by another
which she does not hold, and then growing indignant over the idea
and at the person supposed to hold it."

"I can't see clearly the force of what you say, Mrs. Appleton; and
therefore I must come back to what I remarked a little while ago:
She must pout it out."

"You are wrong, Louisa," her friend replied, "and I cannot let you
rest in that wrong, if it is in my power to correct it. Perhaps, by
relating a circumstance that occurred with myself a few years ago, I
may be able to make an impression on your mind. I had, and still
have, an esteemed friend, amiable and sincere, but extremely
sensitive. She is too apt to make mistakes about other people's
estimation of her, which, I often told her, is a decided fault of
character. That she has only to be self-conscious of integrity, and
then she will be truly estimated. Well, this friend would sometimes
imagine that _I_ treated her coolly, or indifferently, or thrust at
her feelings, when I felt towards her all the while a very warm
affection. The consequence would be, that she would assume a cold or
offended exterior. But I never said to myself, 'Let her pout it
out.' I knew that she was mistaken, and that she was really
suffering under her mistake; and I would always go to her, and