"
There was no resentment in her voice or look, but only a sort of regret,
as if, but for this grievance, she could have loved the woman from whom
she had probably had much kindness. The tears came into Mrs. Makely's
eyes, and she turned toward Mrs. Camp. "And is this the way you _all_ feel
toward us?" she asked.
"Why shouldn't we?" asked the invalid, in her turn. "But, no, it isn't the
way all the country people feel. Many of them feel as you would like to
have them feel; but that is because they do not think. When they think,
they feel as we do. But I don't blame you. You can't help yourselves any
more than we can. We're all bound up together in that, at least."
At this apparent relenting Mrs. Makely tricked her beams a little, and
said, plaintively, as if offering herself for further condolence: "Yes,
that is what that woman at the little shanty back there said: some have to
be rich, and some have to be poor; it takes all kinds to make a world."
"How would you like to be one of those that have to be poor?" asked young
Camp, with an evil grin.
"I don't know," said Mrs. Makely, with unexpected spirit; "but I am sure
that I should respect the feelings of all, rich or poor.
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