I thought a great deal about my mother and my home, of which I knew so little, and for the first time feared that I had done very wrong, and resolved to write to my mother surely on the morrow.

I felt myself to be an impostor and a liar, and I trembled, thinking of her just anger at my falsehood and cowardice.

I felt that when writing to her I must make up my mind to confess to Mrs.Hill that I had deceived her respecting my name and condition, and bribed my schoolmistress to deceive her also.

I knew that my mother would not tolerate the deceit; but the thought of the confession was insufferable to me.
The next day, while we sat together, Mrs.Hill talked to me about Arthur Noble.

He was a great pet of hers, and at present she was particularly interested in his circumstances.