But the asylum was the worst . I 've only been in it four months , but that was enough . I do n't suppose you ever were an orphan in an asylum , so you ca n't possibly understand what it is like . It 's worse than anything you could imagine . Mrs. Spencer said it was wicked of me to talk like that , but I did n't mean to be wicked . It 's so easy to be wicked without knowing it , is n't it ? They were good , you know -- the asylum people . But there is so little scope for the imagination in an asylum -- only just in the other orphans . It was pretty interesting to imagine things about them -- to imagine that perhaps the girl who sat next to you was really the daughter of a belted earl , who had been stolen away from her parents in her infancy by a cruel nurse who died before she could confess . I used to lie awake at nights and imagine things like that , because I did n't have time in the day . I guess that 's why I 'm so thin -- I AM dreadful thin , ai n't I ? There is n't a pick on my bones . I do love to imagine I 'm nice and plump , with dimples in my elbows . '' With this Matthew 's companion stopped talking , partly because she was out of breath and partly because they had reached the buggy . Not another word did she say until they had left the village and were driving down a steep little hill , the road part of which had been cut so deeply into the soft soil , that the banks , fringed with blooming wild cherry-trees and slim white birches , were several feet above their heads . The child put out her hand and broke off a branch of wild plum that brushed against the side of the buggy . `` Is n't that beautiful ? What did that tree , leaning out from the bank , all white and lacy , make you think of ? '' she asked . `` Well now , I dunno , '' said Matthew .
`` Why , a bride , XXXXX course -- a bride all in white with a lovely misty veil .
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