"And I too am nineteen." She thought more sorrowfully than Bessy did, of the contrast between them. She could not speak for a moment or two for the emotion she was trying to keep down.
"About Mary," said Bessy. "I wanted to ask yo' to be a friend to her. She's seventeen, but she's th' last on us. And I don't want her to go to th' mill, and yet I dunno what she's fit for."
"She could not do"--Margaret glanced unconsciously at the uncleaned corners of the room--"She could hardly undertake a servant's place, could she? We have an old faithful servant, almost a friend, who wants help, but who is very particular; and it would not be right to plague her with giving her any assistance that would really be an annoyance and an irritation."

'I too am nineteen.' Margaret thought sorrowfully of the contrast between them, and could not speak for a moment or two.
'About Mary,' said Bessy. 'I wanted to ask yo' to be a friend to her. She's seventeen, and I don't want her to go to th' mill, and yet I dunno what she's fit for.'
Margaret glanced at the uncleaned corners of the room. 'She could hardly fill a servant's place, could she? We have an old faithful servant who wants help, but who is very particular; and it would not be right to plague her with giving her any assistance that would really be an annoyance.'
