She did not even know why she was happy; she thought life was good to her.

Still, there must have been moments when she perceived that the finer things were not in themselves unattainable, but were kept from her by a social tyranny.
This I can only surmise, as in our daily intercourse she never gave a sign of discontent.
We continued to have part of our life in common for some time after she went to work.

We formed ourselves into an evening school, she and I and the two youngsters, for the study of English and arithmetic.

As soon as the supper dishes were put away, we gathered around the kitchen table, with books borrowed from school, and pencils supplied by my father with eager willingness.

I was the teacher, the others the diligent pupils; and the earnestness with which we labored was worthy of the great things we meant to achieve.