Her child, and your brother's is
suffering from want. Will you pay me, at least, for our last work--the
dress you have on?"
"How much?" was asked, in a sharp, quick voice.
"Five dollars."
"Outrageous! No, I will not pay that. Here are three dollars. Go, and
never let me hear of you again."
"Julia Bland, I wish the world knew you as I do. You will grind to the
earth your sister-woman, and give liberally where it will be known and
said, 'How charitable--how good!' I say how hard-hearted--how
deceitful!" said the woman, in bitter tones.
"Go!" came forth, in a voice quivering with rage.
Soon the hall door told the departure of the unwelcome guest.
Looks of amazement, beyond description, passed between the reverend
gentlemen.
At length the younger one said:
"She does not know of our arrival. I will go into the hall and touch
the bell."
"Oh! excuse me, sir. I thought Miss Bland was in the drawing-room. I
will tell her now," said the servant.
Could this gentle, dignified woman be the same whose harsh, hard tones
were still lingering in their ears?
Impossible! thought the elder man. Surely he must be in a dreadful,
dreadful dream. Not so David; he clearly understood it all, and felt
truly thankful that the blundering servant had enabled him to get this
"peep behind the scenes.
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