How'd I know that askin' if a woman who's been sick in bed six year or more was 'in' meant could she have folks come to see her ?" Mother would have discussed the Coltons with me frequently, but I avoided the subject as much as possible.

The promised books arrived--brought over by Johnson, the butler, who viewed our humble quarters with lofty disdain--and I read one of them aloud to Mother, a chapter each evening.

More flowers came also and the darkened bedroom became a bower of beauty and perfume.

If I had yielded to my own wishes I should have returned both roses and books.

It was better, as I saw it, that we and our wealthy neighbors had nothing to do with each other.
Real friendship was out of the question; the memory of Mrs.Colton's frigid bow and her reference to me as a "person" proved that.