You can imagine how I felt when I learned this [she wrote], when I
thought of all the kindness I had accepted at their hands, accepted it
almost as if it was my right, thinking as I did that my own money paid.
And now to learn that all the time I had nothing and they had given
of their own when they had so little, and given it so cheerfully, so
gladly. And, Crawford, when I told them what I had done, they would not
accept thanks, they would not let me even speak of the great debt I owed
them. So far from that they acted as if they were the ones who owed and
as if I had caught them in some disgraceful act. Why, if they could,
they would have sent me back to Boston and to school, while they
remained here to work and worry until the bankruptcy they expected came.

Do you wonder that I feel my first and whole duty is to them and that
nothing, NOTHING must be permitted to interfere with it? I am going to
stay here and try to help. Perhaps I shall succeed, and perhaps, which
is just as probable, I may fail; but at any rate while my uncles live
and need me I shall not leave them. They gave all they had to me when
there was no real reason why they should give anything. The very least
I can do is to be with them and work for them now when they are growing
old.

I am sure you must understand this and that, therefore, you will
forget--


She paused. "Forget" was a hard word to write. Fortunately she had
written it at the top of a page, so she tore up that sheet and began the
line again.