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Updated: June 26, 2025
Welden had nothing whatever to live on. No one knew how she lived, and really she would be better off in the workhouse. She could be sent to Brexley Union, and comfortably taken care of, but she had that singular, obstinate dislike to going, which it was so difficult to manage.
It was, of course, so much pleasanter if these old people could be induced to go to Brexley willingly. "Shall I be undermining the whole Political Economy of Stornham if I take care of her myself?" suggested Betty. "You you will lead others to expect the same thing will be done for them."
She felt for the first time the joy of reckless extravagance, and thrilled with the excitement of it. "You need not think of Brexley Union any more," she said, when she, having risen to go, stood at the cottage door with old Mrs. Welden. "The things I have written down here shall be sent to you every Saturday night. I will pay your rent." "Miss miss!" Mrs. Welden looked affrighted.
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