Folks are apt to talk slightingly of the sorrows of childhood, but they must be those who do not remember their own. When a cup is full, it is full, and that whether it hold a gill or a gallon. I had been unhappy enough before at the prospect of going away, but that unhappiness was nothing to the tide of wretchedness, of disappointed love and impotent anger that swept over me. I think my first clear thought was that I would never let my uncle see that I was sorry to go away. So when the priest asked me again whether I would like to go to the convent I courtesied and said, in a voice which did not somehow seem to be my own: "Yes, reverend father, I shall like it very much!" My uncle looked at me with a face of grieved surprise. "Are you indeed so glad to leave us, niece!" said he. "I am glad to go, if you want me to go, uncle!" I answered, in the same hard voice. "I don't want to stay when you want to get rid of me, only—" and here I broke down—"only I wish they had buried me in the same grave with my father and mother, and then I should not be given away from one to another, like a poor fool or a dog that is in every one's way!" I do think I was the boldest, naughtiest child that ever lived, or I should not have dared to speak so to my elders. My uncle started from his chair as if something had stung him, and went hastily out of the room. The priest looked out of the window. My aunt laid her hand on my shoulder with that soft yet firm touch which always had a great effect in calming my tantrums, as old Madge used to call them, and whispered me to recollect myself and not anger my uncle. Presently Father Austin called me to him, and began in a gentle, fatherly way, to tell me how pleasant was the priory at Dartford, what a nice garden the ladies had, and what fine sweetmeats they made—talking as one like himself would naturally talk to a child. He was ever a kind soul, and glad I am that I have had it in my power to succor his reverend age. But that is going a very long way before my tale. "I trust the lady prioress will be kind to my niece," said my Aunt Joyce. "I think you need have no fear on that score," answered Father Austin; "though the little one is not like to have much to do with her. She will be under the care of the mistress of the novices, an excellent woman, though I say it that should not, she being mine own sister, and you need have no fears for her well-being." Sambo now announced dinner, and my aunt led the way to the dining-room, where she had prepared quite a feast to do honor to our guest, and perhaps to put him in a good humor, though that was quite needless. I think the good man was the only one who enjoyed the collation, though my uncle strove to eat out of courtesy, and my aunt heaped my plate with delicacies which I could not touch.