I have the misfortune of not being a fool. From a very early age I have
detected what those about me thought they hid from me. If I could have
been habitually imposed upon, instead of habitually discerning the
truth, I might have lived as smoothly as most fools do.
My childhood was passed with a grandmother; that is to say, with a lady
who represented that relative to me, and who took that title on herself.
She had no claim to it, but I--being to that extent a little fool--had
no suspicion of her.
She had some children of her own family in her
house, and some children of other people. All girls; ten in number,
including me. We all lived together and were educated together.
I must have been about twelve years old when I began to see how
determinedly those girls patronised me. I was told I was an orphan.
There was no other orphan among us; and I perceived (here was the
first disadvantage of not being a fool) that they conciliated me in an
insolent pity, and in a sense of superiority. I did not set this down
as a discovery, rashly.
I tried them often. I could hardly make them
quarrel with me. When I succeeded with any of them, they were sure to
come after an hour or two, and begin a reconciliation. I tried them over
and over again, and I never knew them wait for me to begin. They were
always forgiving me, in their vanity and condescension. Little images of
grown people!
One of them was my chosen friend. I loved that stupid mite in a
passionate way that she could no more deserve than I can remember
without feeling ashamed of, though I was but a child. She had what they
called an amiable temper, an affectionate temper. She could distribute,
and did distribute pretty looks and smiles to every one among them. I
believe there was not a soul in the place, except myself, who knew that
she did it purposely to wound and gall me!
Nevertheless, I so loved that unworthy girl that my life was made stormy
by my fondness for her. I was constantly lectured and disgraced for what
was called 'trying her;' in other words charging her with her little
perfidy and throwing her into tears by showing her that I read her
heart. However, I loved her faithfully; and one time I went home with
her for the holidays.
She was worse at home than she had been at school. She had a crowd of
cousins and acquaintances, and we had dances at her house, and went out
to dances at other houses, and, both at home and out, she tormented my
love beyond endurance.