had a regard for woman's dignity as profound as silent. She was not of
those that prate or rave about their rights, forget their duties, and
care only for what they count their victories.

She declared herself dead against marriage. One day, while yet hardly
more than a child, I said to her thoughtfully,

"I wonder why you hate gentlemen, Martha!"

"Hate 'em! What on earth makes you say such a wicked thing, Orbie?" she
answered. "Hate 'em, the poor dears! I love 'em! What did you ever see to
make you think I hated your uncle now?"

"Oh! of course! uncle!" I returned; for my uncle was all the world to me.
"Nobody could hate uncle!"

"She'd be a bad woman, anyhow, that did!" rejoined Martha. "But did
anybody ever hate the person that couldn't do without her, Orbie?"

My name--suggested by my uncle because my mother died at my birth--was a
curious one; I believe he made it himself. _Belorba_ it was, and it means
_Fair Orphan_.

"I don't know, Martha," I replied.

"Well, you watch and see!" she returned. "Do you think I would stay here
and work from morning to night if I hadn't some reason for it?--Oh, I
like work!" she went on; "I don't deny that. I should be miserable if I
didn't work. But I'm not bound to this sort of work. I have money of my
own, and I'm no beggar for house-room. But rather than leave your uncle,