Those in the other row are Jimmy's--the little ones."
"H'm!" observed Jane, standing beside her at the window; "which _are_ the
little ones?"
Mrs. Bates laughed. "Well, perhaps there isn't much difference. Jimmy is
eighteen and large for his age, but of course his _seem_ the littlest. I
had them made in the house, but he set off to college before I could
finish with them. Perhaps they're just as well here, until the Sophomores
have finished with _him_.
"Yes," she went on, proudly, "I could wash shirts then, and I can make
shirts now. A woman, it seems to me, may do anything for herself or for
those belonging to her; and I've always tried to be a lady and a woman
too. I made all Jimmy's button-holes and worked all the initials on the
tabs." She looked appealingly at Jane. "I know you think I'm a silly old
thing...."
"I don't either!" cried Jane, loudly, with a tremble on her lip and a hot
tear starting in each eye. "I don't either; you know I don't! You know
what I think! You're a dear, good, lovely woman; and I've been just as
mean and hateful to you as I could! I don't see," she went on, in a great
burst on contrition, "how you could talk to me; I don't see how you could
let me stay one minute in your house. If you only knew all the mean,
ugly, uncharitable things I have thought about you since that man let me
in! How could you stand me? How could you keep from having me turned
out?"
"I am used to being misunderstood," said Mrs.
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