"That's beyond London, I reckon? And I come fro' Burnleyways, and forty miles to th' North. And yet, yo see, North and South has both met and made kind o' friends in this big smoky place."
Margaret had slackened her pace to a walk alongside of the man and his daughter, whose steps were regulated by the feebleness of the latter. She now spoke to the girl, and there was a sound of tender pity in the tone of her voice as she did so that went right to the heart of the father.
"I'm afraid you are not very strong."
"No," said the girl, "nor never will be."
"Spring is coming," said Margaret, as if to suggest pleasant, hopeful thoughts.
"Spring nor summer will do me good," said the girl quietly.

'That's beyond London, I reckon? And I come fro' Burnley-ways, forty mile to th' North. And yet, yo see, North and South has both met and made kind o' friends in this big smoky place.'
Margaret had slackened her pace to walk alongside the man, whose steps were slowed by the feebleness of his daughter. She now spoke to the girl, with a tender pity that went right to the father's heart.
'I'm afraid you are not very strong.'
'No,' said the girl, 'nor never will be.'
'Spring is coming,' said Margaret, as if to suggest hopeful thoughts.
'Spring nor summer will do me good,' said the girl quietly.
