t in that manner."

"But is it right for you to act so? A word of inquiry or explanation
might restore all in a moment."

"Right or wrong, I never did and never will humour the whims of such
kind of people. No, no. Let her pout it out! That's the way to cure
such people."

"I don't think so, Louisa. She is unhappy from some real or imaginary
cause. That cause it is no doubt in your power to remove."

"But she has no right to imagine causes of offence; and I don't choose
to have people act as she is now acting towards me from mere imaginary
causes. No; let her pout it out, I say. It will teach her a good
lesson."

Louisa spoke with indignant warmth.

"Were you never mistaken?" asked Mrs. Appleton, in a grave tone.

"Of course, I've been mistaken many a time."

"Very well. Have you never been mistaken in reference to another's
action towards you?"

"I presume so."

"And have not such mistakes sometimes given you pain?"

"I cannot recall any instances just at this moment, but I have no doubt
they have."

"Very well. Just imagine yourself in Maria's position; would you not
think it kind in any one to step forward and disabuse you of an error
that was stealing away your peace of mind?"

"Yes; but, Mrs. Appleton, I don't know anything about the cause of
Maria's strange conduct. She may see that in my character or
disposition to which she is altogether uncongenial, and may have made
up her mind not to keep my company any longer. Or she may feel herself,
all at once, above me. And I'm not the one, I can tell you, to cringe
to any living mortal. I am as good as she is, or any one else!"

"Gently, gently, Louisa! Don't fall into the very fault you condemn in
Maria; that of imagining a sentiment to be entertained by another which
she does not hold, and then growing indignant over the idea and at the
person supposed to hold it."

"I can't see clearly the force of what you say, Mrs. Appleton; and
therefore I must come back to what I remarked a little while ago: She
must pout it out."

"You are wrong, Louisa," her friend replied, "and I cannot let you rest
in that wrong, if it is in my power to correct it. Perhaps, by relating
a circumstance that occurred with myself a few years ago, I may be able
to make an impression on your mind. I had, and still have, an esteemed
friend, amiable and sincere, but extremely sensitive. She is too apt to
make mistakes about other people's estimation of her, which, I often
told h