"I am nineteen years old already."

"Already," replied Hannah, with a smile. "Why my life has been twice as
long as yours. I had a child, too, a boy; and he was taken from me when
he was quite little. He would be a year older than you now, my child--
is your mother still alive?"

"No," said Selene, with her old dry manner, that had become a habit.
"The gods have taken her from us. She would have been, like you, not
quite forty now, and she was as pretty and as kind as you are. When she
died she left seven children besides me, all little, and one of them
blind. I am the eldest, and do what I can for them, that they may not be
starved."

"God will help you in the loving task."

"The gods!" exclaimed Selene, bitterly. "They let them grow up, the rest
I have to see to--oh! my foot, my foot!"

"Yes, we will think of that before anything else. Your father is alive?"

"Yes."

"And he is not to know that you work here?"

Selene shook her head.

"He is in moderate circumstances, but of good family?"

"Yes."