Pride represents a paradox at the heart of Lyddie. Lyddie’s family is dirt poor. They have only their failed farm and a small log cabin. By the end of the winter, Lyddie and Charlie are reduced to eating bark and rabbits, yet Lyddie refuses to ask for help. She is determined to be beholden to no one. Even the necessity of mating her family’s cow with the Stevens’ bull irritates her, yet she gives in because they need a calf, and there is no other option. When the siblings must leave the farm, Lyddie does not want to accept the hospitality of the Stevens family or their offer of a ride into town. Only when Charlie gratefully accepts does Lyddie go along.

This reluctance shows an arguably unhealthy pride in Lyddie, and readers are invited to imagine what Lyddie’s life would have been like if she had allowed people to help her. The Stevens family may well have gladly fed and cared for the children all winter, and Quaker Stevens might have taught them about efficient farming. But Lyddie’s pride dominates, and the children suffer for it.

When she arrives in Lowell, Lyddie is still driven by her pride, and she hates accepting help from anyone, even though she often finds that she must. Without Mrs. Bedlow’s help and sympathy, Lyddie would not have found a place in the company. Without Diana’s training, Lyddie would never have learned her job. Yet Lyddie quickly pushes these interactions aside and focuses on her work. She is proud of what she can do, that she can work several looms at a time, that she can keep up with whatever pace the company sets, and that she is better than the other girls because of her ability to be almost a machine herself. Lyddie wants nothing to get in the way of her work and her income—not the petition, not an injury, not even friendship. Her pride keeps her isolated.

Eventually, though, Lyddie learns to curb her pride. She has no choice but to rely on other people when she falls ill with fever and when she is weak for some time afterward. Further, when Judah brings Rachel to Lyddie, Lyddie must ask for help on Rachel’s behalf. She begs Mrs. Bedlow to allow Rachel to remain at the boardinghouse, promising to pay full price. She reluctantly but firmly takes money out of the bank to pay for the things her sister needs. She even convinces Mrs. Bedlow to ask for a job for Rachel. Lyddie must think of someone other than herself, and thus she is humbled for her sister’s sake.

By the end of the story, Lyddie is still somewhat proud, but her pride has been tempered. When she writes the letters that will keep Mr. Marsden away from Brigid, Lyddie is not thinking of vindicating herself but of protecting Brigid from the overseer’s potentially harmful actions. Of course, when she talks to Mr. Marsden, she lets him know exactly what she thinks of his “moral turpitude,” but she is truthful about herself as well. “I am mean and I am cheap,” she declares. “Sometimes I am a coward and often times I’m selfish. . . . But I am not vile, shameful, base, or depraved!” Lyddie has come a long way in knowing who she is—both the good and the bad—and in this self-assessment, one can see that her reflexive pride has given way to a more mature sense of self.