"Did you ever see any one alter looks so quickly?"

"Never; but I sha'n't lose any opportunity to see it again," said Mrs.
Prency.

"Mother, dear," said Eleanor, "I hope you're not suddenly going to
recognize every common person you may meet on the street. You're so
enthusiastic."

"And so different from my daughter in that respect,--eh, dear?"

"But, mother, you've always been so careful and fastidious about your
associations and mine. I remember the time, only a year or two ago,
while I was at school, when you would have been horrified if I'd had
anything to do with a creature like that."

"You were a child then, my dear; you're a woman now. That girl is the
daughter of the poor fellow--"

"Sam Kimper?--that you and father talk of so frequently? Yes, I know;
she was a horrid little thing in school, two classes below me. But,
mother, I don't see why we ought to recognize her just because her
father has been in the penitentiary and behaved himself since he came
back."

"Because she _needs_ recognition, dear child; because she gets it from
plenty of people of her own class, and if she has it from no others she
never will be any better than she is; perhaps she will become worse."