This, however, can not be helped, and now, as I said before I only wish it were in your power to do more for Mary.

I, of course, know that you are poor, but I do not think less of you for that--" Mrs.Mason's body became slightly more erect, but she made no reply, and Mrs.Campbell continued.
"Still I hope you will make every exertion in your power to educate and polish Mary as much as possible, so that if by chance Ella in after years should come in contact with her, she would not feel,--ahem,--would not,--would not be--" "Ashamed to own her sister, I suppose you would say," interrupted Mrs.
Mason.

"Ashamed to acknowledge that the same blood flowed in her veins, that the same roof once sheltered them, and that the same mother bent lovingly over their pillows, calling them her children." "Why, not exactly that," said Mrs.Campbell, fidgeting in her chair and growing very red.

"I think there is a difference between feeling mortified and ashamed.

Now you must know that Ella would not be particularly pleased to have a homely, stupid, rawboned country girl pointed out as her sister to a circle of fashionable acquaintances in Boston, where I intend taking her as soon as her education is finished; and I think it well enough for Mary to understand, that with the best you can do for her there will still be a great difference between her own and her sister's position." "Excuse me, madam," again interrupted Mrs.Mason, "a stupid, awkward country girl Mary is not, and never will be.