I have the misfortune of not being a fool. From a very early age I have

detected what those about me thought they hid from me. If I could have

been habitually imposed upon, instead of habitually discerning the

truth, I might have lived as smoothly as most fools do.

My childhood was passed with a grandmother; that is to say, with a lady

who represented that relative to me, and who took that title on herself.

She had no claim to it, but I--being to that extent a little fool--had

no suspicion of her.

She had some children of her own family in her

house, and some children of other people. All girls; ten in number,

including me. We all lived together and were educated together.

I must have been about twelve years old when I began to see how

determinedly those girls patronised me. I was told I was an orphan.

There was no other orphan among us; and I perceived (here was the

first disadvantage of not being a fool) that they conciliated me in an

insolent pity, and in a sense of superiority. I did not set this down

as a discovery, rashly.

I tried them often. I could hardly make them

quarrel with me. When I succeeded with any of them, they were sure to

come after an hour or two, and begin a reconciliation. I tried them over

and over again, and I never knew them wait for me to begin. They were

always forgiving me, in their vanity and condescension. Little images of

grown people!

One of them was my chosen friend. I loved that stupid mite in a

passionate way that she could no more deserve than I can remember

without feeling ashamed of, though I was but a child. She had what they

called an amiable temper, an affectionate temper. She could distribute,

and did distribute pretty looks and smiles to every one among them. I

believe there was not a soul in the place, except myself, who knew that

she did it purposely to wound and gall me!

Nevertheless, I so loved that unworthy girl that my life was made stormy

by my fondness for her. I was constantly lectured and disgraced for what

was called 'trying her;' in other words charging her with her little

perfidy and throwing her into tears by showing her that I read her

heart. However, I loved her faithfully; and one time I went home with

her for the holidays.

She was worse at home than she had been at school. She had a crowd of

cousins and acquaintances, and we had dances at her house, and went out

to dances at other houses, and, both at home and out, she tormented my

love beyond endurance.




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