an pay you just as well every
night if you need it." Fanny emphasized the "need" maliciously.
Then she turned to Andrew. "Andrew," said she, "Miss Higgins needs
the money, if you can pay her for yesterday and to-day."

Andrew turned pale. "Yes, of course," he stammered. "How much?"

"Six dollars," said Fanny, and in her tone was unmistakable meaning
of the dearness of the price. The dressmaker was flushed, but her
thin mouth was set hard. It was as much as to say, "Well, I don't
care so long as I get my money." She was unmarried, and her lonely
condition had worked up her spirit into a strong attitude of
defiance against all masculine odds. She had once considered men
from a matrimonial point of view. She had wondered if this one and
that one wanted to marry her. Now she was past that, and considered
with equal sharpness if this one or that one wanted to cheat her.
She had missed men's love through some failing either of theirs or
hers. She did not know which, but she was determined that she would
not lose money. So she bore Fanny's insulting emphasis with
rigidity, and waited for her pay.

Andrew pulled out his old pocket-book, and counted the bills. Miss
Higgins saw that he took every bill in it, unless there were some in
another compartment, and of that she could not be quite sure. But
Andrew knew. He would not have another penny until the next week
when he received his pay. In the meantime there was a bill due at
the grocery store, and one at the market, and there was the debt for
Ellen's watch. However, he felt as if he would rather owe every man
in Rowe than this one small, sharp woman. He felt the scorn lurking
within her like a sting. She seemed to him like some venomous
insect. He went out to the doorstep again, and wondered if she would
want her pay the next night when she went home.

Chapter XXIV

Ellen had a flower-garden behind the house, and a row of sweet-peas
which was her pride. It had occurred to her that she might venture,
although Cynthia Lennox had her great garden and conservatories, to
carry her a bunch of these sweet-peas. She had asked her mother what
she thought about it. "Why, of course, carry her some if you want
to," said Fanny. "I don't see why you shouldn't. I dare say she's
got sweet-peas, but yours are uncommon handsome, and, anyway, it
ought to please her to have some given her. It ain't altogether
what's given, it's the giving."

So Ellen had cut a great bouquet of th