Sweet Content by Mary Louisa Molesworth — Read

"Sweet Content. " That was my name when I was a very tiny child. It may sound rather conceited to tell this of myself, but when I have told all the story I am now beginning, I don't _think_, at least I _hope_, you, whoever you are that read it, won't say I am conceited. Indeed, if I thought any one I knew, or rather that knew me, would be likely to read it and to know that the "I" of it was _me_, I am not by any means sure that I would write it. But, of course, it is not at all certain that it ever will be printed or seen by any one (except, perhaps, by my children, if, when I am grown up, I am married and have any) who ever heard of me. The world seems to me a very big place; there are such lots and lots of people in it, old ones and children, and middling ones; and they are all busy and taken up about their own affairs.

Some other children might like to read my story, just _as_ a story, for I do think some parts of it are rather _extra_ interesting; but it is not probable that any of them would recognise _me_, or the other "characters" (I think that is the right word) in it. Except -- except some of the other characters themselves! They don't know I am writing it, perhaps they never will know about it; but if they did -- yes, even if they read every word of it -- I don't think I'd mind. They are so truly -- no, I mustn't begin telling about them like that; you will understand, all in good time, why, least of any people in the world, perhaps, I should mind their reading the exactly how it was of everything I have to tell. This shows how perfectly I can trust them.