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"
None
belonging
to
your
father
?
"
"
I
do
n't
know
.
I
asked
Aunt
Reed
once
,
and
she
said
possibly
I
might
have
some
poor
,
low
relations
called
Eyre
,
but
she
knew
nothing
about
them
.
"
"
If
you
had
such
,
would
you
like
to
go
to
them
?
"
I
reflected
.
Poverty
looks
grim
to
grown
people
;
still
more
so
to
children
:
they
have
not
much
idea
of
industrious
,
working
,
respectable
poverty
;
they
think
of
the
word
only
as
connected
with
ragged
clothes
,
scanty
food
,
fireless
grates
,
rude
manners
,
and
debasing
vices
:
poverty
for
me
was
synonymous
with
degradation
.
"
No
;
I
should
not
like
to
belong
to
poor
people
,
"
was
my
reply
.
"
Not
even
if
they
were
kind
to
you
?
"
I
shook
my
head
:
I
could
not
see
how
poor
people
had
the
means
of
being
kind
;
and
then
to
learn
to
speak
like
them
,
to
adopt
their
manners
,
to
be
uneducated
,
to
grow
up
like
one
of
the
poor
women
I
saw
sometimes
nursing
their
children
or
washing
their
clothes
at
the
cottage
doors
of
the
village
of
Gateshead
:
no
,
I
was
not
heroic
enough
to
purchase
liberty
at
the
price
of
caste
.
"
But
are
your
relatives
so
very
poor
?
Are
they
working
people
?
"
"
I
can
not
tell
;
Aunt
Reed
says
if
I
have
any
,
they
must
be
a
beggarly
set
:
I
should
not
like
to
go
a
begging
.
"
"
Would
you
like
to
go
to
school
?
"
