ungraciously.

"Going as governess or nurse girl to some of the aristocracy there? You
don't look as if you ever did much housework, though."

"I am going to Mr. Winthrop's."

"Deu tell! Why, I lived with his mother myself, when I was a widder
first."

Then she relapsed into another eloquent pause of silence, while possibly
in her dim way she was reflecting how history repeats itself. But coming
back to reality again, and scanning me more closely than ever, she asked,
"Are you going there to work?"

My patience was getting exhausted, and it is possible there was a trace
of petulance in my voice as I said, "No, I am Mr. Winthrop's ward."

"Deu tell! What is that?"

"He is my guardian."

"Why, he is a young man for that. I thought they got elderly men."

"My father held the same relation to him."

She was some time taking in the idea, but she said at last, "Oh, I see."

I took a book from my satchel and began reading; but she did not long
permit me to enjoy it; her next remark, however, riveted my attention.