"Don't you think her very pretty--almost beautiful? I think I never
before saw so intelligent a countenance."

Mrs. Kingsley replied,--

"I see nothing so very intelligent in her countenance, and if you
consider her pretty, I must say that I am astonished at your taste;
indeed I think her quite common-looking. I almost wonder that the
Leightons should have made her a guest at a party with their friends;
but then Miss Laura is kind-hearted, and I presume invited her out of
pity--those _poor people_ have so few pleasures."

"Hush! She may hear you."

And they changed the subject. I had, however, heard quite enough to
spoil my enjoyment for the rest of the evening. I was young and
inexperienced then, and this was my first, though by no means my last,
lesson in those distinctions which the world draws between the rich and
the poor. Had I possessed a little more knowledge of the world I should
better have understood the matter, knowing as I did, that Mrs. Kingsley
had an unmarried daughter present, of uncertain age, with a fair
prospect of remaining for some time longer in her state of single
blessedness. I forbear describing Miss Kingsley, and will only say that
if Mrs. Kingsley thought me common-looking, I, on the contrary, thought
her daughter, Miss Kingsley, to be very uncommon-looking.

After the remarks to which I had been an unwilling listener, I derived
very little pleasure from the party. I mentally said, if my poverty is
to be made a subject of conversation in parties like this, I wish never