I've read or heard somewhere, sir, about God's goodness in tempering the wind to the shorn lamb.

I don't know who said that first; but it might well have been spoken on account of my own darling little Mary, in those days.

Instead of us being the first to comfort her, it was she that was first to comfort us.

And so she's gone on ever since--bless her heart! Only treat her kindly, and, in spite of her misfortune, she's the merriest, happiest little thing--the easiest pleased and amused, I do believe, that ever lived.
"If we were wrong in not forcing her to speak more than we did, I must say this much for me and my husband, that we hadn't the heart to make her miserable and keep on tormenting her from morning to night, when she was always happy and comfortable if we would only let her alone.

We tried our best for some time to do what the gentleman told us; but it's so hard--as you've found I dare say, ma'am--not to end by humoring them you love! I never see the tear in her eye, except when we forced her to speak to us; and then she always cried, and was fretful and out of sorts for the whole day.