When Mother allowed herself a still moment by the fire on winter nights, I could sometimes see the face she wore when Father was alive. Back then Mother smiled at me with her eyes and her laughter and her gentle hands. But no longer. Life was a battle, and Mother a tired and bitter captain. The captain I had to obey. (2.25)
"Can that be little Mattie?" elderly Mr. Carris asked as he squinted through his bifocals. "Why, she's grown into a fine young lady. Much too fine for this type of work. We'll have to find a husband for you."
"A husband! A husband!" squawked King George.
My face flushed as the men laughed.
"Hush, you old thing," I muttered to the bird. It would have been rude to hush Mr. Carris. "I'll feed you to Silas if you don't close that beak." (4.6-4.9)
A low voice and soft address are the common indications of a well-bred woman. – Hannah More, The Young Lady Abroad or Affectionate Advice on the Social and Moral Habits of Females, 1777 (5.epigraph)