Shocking, wasn't it? And you wonder how her aunt and uncle could have

stood by and permitted it. Because they couldn't help it. Miss Claudia

was a little lady, angel born, who had never been contradicted in her

life. Her father was a crochety old fellow, with a "theory," one result

of which was that he let his trees and his daughter grow up unpruned as

they liked.

But do not mistake Miss Claudia, or think her any better or any worse

than she really was. Her caresses of the peasant boy looked as if she

was republican in her principles and "fast" in her manners. She was

neither the one nor the other. So far from being republican, she was

just the most ingrained little aristocrat that ever lived! She was an

aristocrat from the crown of her little, black, ringletted head to the

sole of her tiny, gaitered foot; from her heart's core to her

scarf-skin; so perfect an aristocrat that she was quite unconscious of

being so. For instance, she looked upon herself as very little lower

than the angels; and upon the working classes as very little higher than

the brutes; if in her heart she acknowledged that all in the human shape

were human, that was about the utmost extent of her liberalism. She and

they were both clay, to be sure, but she was of the finest porcelain

clay and they of the coarsest potter's earth. This theory had not been

taught her, it was born in her, and so entirely natural and sincere that

she was almost unconscious of its existence; certainly unsuspicious of

its fallacy.

Thus, you see, she caressed Ishmael just exactly as she would have

caressed her own Newfoundland dog; she defended his truth and honesty

from false accusation just as she would have defended Fido's from a

similar charge; she praised his fidelity and courage just as she would

have praised Fido's; for, in very truth, she rated the peasant boy not

one whit higher than the dog! Had she been a degree less proud, had she

looked upon Ishmael as a human being with like passions and emotions as

her own, she might have been more reserved in her manner. But being as

proud as she was, she caressed and protected the noble peasant boy as a

kind-hearted little lady would have caressed and protected a noble

specimen of the canine race! Therefore, what might have been considered

very forward and lowering in another little lady, was perfectly graceful

and dignified in Miss Merlin.

But, meanwhile, the poor, earnest, enthusiastic boy! He didn't know that

she rated him as low as any four-footed pet! He thought she appreciated

him, very highly, too highly, as a human being! And his great little

heart burned and glowed with joy and gratitude! And he would no more

have taken pay for doing her uncle a service than he would have picked a

pocket or robbed a henroost! He just adored her lovely clemency, and he

was even turning over in his mind the problem how he, a poor, poor boy,

hardly able to afford himself a halfpenny candle to read by, after dark,

could repay her kindness--what could he find, invent, or achieve to

please her!




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