One of the loveliest persons I ever knew was a young girl who
worked opposite to me in the spinning-room. Our eyes made us
friends long before we spoke to each other. She was an orphan,
well-bred and well-educated, about twenty years old, and she had
brought with her to her place of toil the orphan child of her
sister, left to her as a death-bed legacy. They boarded with a
relative. The factory boarding-houses were often managed by
families of genuine refinement, as in this case, and the one
comfort of Caroline's life was her beautiful little niece, to
whom she could go home when the day's work was over.
Her bereavements had given an appealing sadness to her whole
expression; but she had accepted them and her changed
circumstances with the submission of profound faith which
everybody about her felt in everything she said and did. I think
I first knew, through her, how character can teach, without
words. To see her and her little niece together was almost like
looking at a picture of the Madonna.
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