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Beth burst into a paroxysm of tears. She had understood her mother better than her mother had understood her, had felt for her privations, had admired and imitated her patient endurance; and now to think that it was too late, to think that she had gone, and it would never be in Beth's power to brighten her life or lessen the hardship of it! That was all she thought of.
"This is the first hint I have had of the loathsome business. My husband talks to me about many things that he had better not have mentioned but about this he has never said a word." "Then he must have suspected that you would disapprove," said Mrs. Kilroy. "Disapprove!" Beth ejaculated. "The whole thing makes me sick. I ought to have been told before I married him.
Often, too, Beth in her eager sympathy would say, "Let me do that!" and Harriet would sit in an arm-chair if they were in the drawing-room, and resign the duster or the dishcloth, if they were in the kitchen and continue the recital, while Beth showed her appreciation, and encouraged her to proceed, by doing the greater part of her work for her. Mrs.
Bernadine told if Beth spoke to one of them, and as Beth had no friends amongst them as yet, she did not feel that their acquaintance was worth fighting for. But the street children resented the attitude of the two shabby little ladies, and were always watching for opportunities to annoy them.
When she could beat Beth no longer, she told her to sit there until she knew that sign, and then she left her. Beth clenched her teeth, and an ugly look came into her face. There had been dignity in her endurance the dignity of self-control; for there was the force in her to resist, had she thought it right to resist.
"I suppose he is a great artist, by this time," said Beth, musingly. "How singular!" exclaimed Louise. "Count Ferralti told me only this morning that he had decided to go to Palermo." "Really?" said Uncle John. "Yes, Uncle. Isn't it a coincidence?" "Why, as for that," he answered, slowly, "I'm afraid it will prevent our seeing the dear count or whatever he is again, at least for some time. For Mr.
Ideala, who was an impulsive and generous woman, wrote warmly on the subject, and Sir George sent her letter to Beth with a few lines of kindly expressed encouragement from himself. He returned her manuscript; but when Beth saw it again, she was greatly dissatisfied. The faults her friends had pointed out to her she plainly perceived, and more also; but she could not see the merits.
I ought to have been a trained nurse, you know; but of course there's no necessity of my earning a living." "I suppose not," said Beth. Then, after a thoughtful silence, she resumed abruptly; "What's to prevent Aunt Jane leaving you her property, even if you are rich, and don't need it? You say you like to care for invalids, and I don't.
"Perhaps had I known, I would not have accepted our Aunt's invitation." "Ah! Why not?" enquired the other, as if in wonder. Beth hesitated. "Have you known Aunt Jane before today?" she asked. "No." "Nor I. The letter asking me to visit her was the first I have ever received from her. Even my mother, her own sister, does not correspond with her.
Then Charlotte went downstairs and smuggled her up such a good breakfast fried ham, boiled eggs, hot rolls with plenty of butter, and delicious coffee that the famishing Beth was fain to exclaim with genuine enthusiasm "In spite of all the difficulty, danger, and privation we have to endure in the Secret Service of Humanity, Charlotte, is there anything to equal the delight of it?"
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