“The child is very young to be sent alone,” said she, putting her candle down on the table. She considered me attentively for a minute or two, then further added—
“She had better be put to bed soon; she looks tired: are you tired?” she asked, placing her hand on my shoulder.
“A little, ma’am.”
“And hungry too, no doubt: let her have some supper before she goes to bed, Miss Miller. Is this the first time you have left your parents to come to school, my little girl?”
I explained to her that I had no parents. She inquired how long they had been dead: then how old I was, what was my name, whether I could read, write, and sew a little: then she touched my cheek gently with her forefinger, and saying, “She hoped I should be a good child,” dismissed me along with Miss Miller.