show it, any more than to tell me, whenever I offended her, that she would
never keep so ugly and naughty a child _without being paid for it_, were
it not for the sake of so noble a father.

These conditions and harsh judgments made me a philosopher. I heard myself
called obstinate and wilful, only because I believed myself in the right,
and persisted in it. I felt that I was not maliciously disposed towards
any one, but wished well to all; and I offered my services not only
willingly, but cheerfully, wherever they could be of the least use; and
saw them accepted, and even demanded, by those who could not dispense with
them, though they shunned and ridiculed me the same as before. I felt that
they only sought me when they needed me: this made me shrink still more
from their companionship; and, when my sister did not walk home from
school with me, I invariably went alone.

The idea that I might not wish to attach myself to playmates of this sort
never occurred to any one; but I was constantly reproached with having no
friends among my schoolfellows, and was told that no one could love so
disagreeable and repelling a child. This was a severe blow to my
affectionate nature; but I bore it calmly, consoling myself with the
thought that they were wrong,--that they did not understand me,--and that
the time would come, when they would learn that a great, warm heart was
concealed beneath the so-called repulsive exterior. But, however soothing
all this was for the time, a feeling of bitterness grew up within me. I
began to be provoked at my ugliness, which I believed to be excessive. I
speculated why parents so kind and good as mine should be deprived of
their means of support, merely because my father would not consent to
endure wrong and imposition. I was indignant at being told, that it was
only for my father's sake that I was retained in a school where I tried to
do my best, and where I always won the highest prizes; and I could not see