"Do you like me?" said Ermengarde, finally, at the end of her scrutiny.

Sara hesitated one second, then she answered:

"I like you because you are not ill-natured--I like you for letting me
read your books--I like you because you don't make spiteful fun of me
for what I can't help. It's not your fault that--"

She pulled herself up quickly. She had been going to say, "that you are
stupid."

"That what?" asked Ermengarde.

"That you can't learn things quickly. If you can't, you can't. If I can,
why, I can--that's all." She paused a minute, looking at the plump face
before her, and then, rather slowly, one of her wise, old-fashioned
thoughts came to her.

"Perhaps," she said, "to be able to learn things quickly isn't
everything. To be kind is worth a good deal to other people. If Miss
Minchin knew everything on earth, which she doesn't, and if she was like
what she is now, she'd still be a detestable thing, and everybody would
hate her. Lots of clever people have done harm and been wicked. Look at
Robespierre--"

She stopped again and examined her companion's countenance.

"Do you remember about him?" she demanded. "I believe you've forgotten."