e treated. Oh, poor Eva, poor Eva! Albert Riggs told me
there were awful things done with the State poor in the asylums.
He's been an attendant in one. He says we've got to pay eighteen
dollars a week if we want to have her cared for decently, and
where's the money comin' from?" Fanny raised her voice higher still.

"Where's the money comin' from?" she demanded, with an impious
inflection. It was as if she questioned that which is outside of,
and the source of, life. Everything with this woman, whose whole
existence had been bound and tainted by the need of money, resolved
itself into that fundamental question. All her woes hinged upon it;
even her misery was deteriorated by mammon.

"Where's the money comin' from?" she demanded again. "There's Jim
gone, and all his mother's got is that little, mortgaged place, and
she feeble, and there ain't a cent anywhere, unless--" She turned
fiercely to Andrew, clutching him hard by the arm.

"You must take every cent of that money out of the savings-bank,"
she cried, "every cent of it. I'm your wife, and I've been a good
wife to you, you can't say I haven't."

"Yes, of course you have, poor girl! Don't, don't!" said Andrew,
soothingly. He was very pale, and shook from head to foot as he
tried to calm Fanny.

"Yes, I've been a good, faithful wife," Fanny went on, in her high,
hysterical voice. "Even your mother can't say that I haven't; and
Eva is my own sister, and you ought to help her. Every cent of that
money will have to come out of the savings-bank, and the house here
will have to be mortgaged; it's only my due. I would do as much for
you if it was your sister. Eva ain't goin' to suffer."

"I guess if you mortgage this house that you had from your father,
to keep a woman whose husband has gone off and left her," said Mrs.
Zelotes, "I guess if you don't go and get him back, and get the law
to tackle him!"

Then Fanny turned on her. "Don't you say a word," said she. "My
sister ain't goin' to suffer, I don't care where the money comes
from. It's mine as much as Andrew's. I've half supported the family
myself sewin' on wrappers, and I've got a right to have my say. My
sister ain't goin' to suffer! Oh, my God, what's goin' to become of
her? Poor Eva, poor Eva! Eighteen dollars a week; that's as much as
Andrew ever earned. Oh, it was awful, it was awful! There, when I
got in there, she had a--knife, the--carving knife, and she had
Amabel's hair all gathered up in one hand