living yet, and Teddy and I tied to
him yet but for a chance! I suffered dependence and hunger--yes, and
death, too," said Martie, crying now, "just because you didn't give me
a livelihood, just because you didn't make me, and Sally, and Lydia,
too, useful citizens! You did Len; why didn't you give us the same
chance you gave Len? Len had college; he not only was encouraged to
choose a profession, but he was MADE to! Our profession was marriage,
and we weren't even prepared for that! I didn't know anything when I
married. I didn't know whether Wallace was fit to be a husband or a
father! I didn't know how motherhood came--all those first months were
full of misgivings and doubts! I knew I was giving him all I had, and
that financially I was just where I had been--worse off than ever, in
fact, for there were the children to think of! Why didn't I have some
work to do, so that I could have stepped into it, when bitter need
came, and my children and I were almost starving? What has Len cost
you, five thousand dollars, ten thousand? What did that statue to
Grandfather Monroe cost you? Sally and I have never cost you anything
but what we ate and wore!"

Malcolm had risen, too, and they were glaring at each other. The old
man's putty-coloured face was pale, and his eyes glittered with fury.

"You were always a headstrong, wicked girl!" he said now, in a toneless
dry voice, hardly above a whisper. "And heartless and wicked you will
be to the end, I suppose! How dare you criticise your father, and your
sainted mother? You choose your own life; you throw in your fortune
with a ne'er-do-well, and then you come and reproach me! Don't--don't
touch me!" he added, in a sort of furious crow, and as Martie laid a
placating hand on his arm: "Don't come near me!"

"No, don't you dare come near him!" sobbed Lydia. "Poor, dear Pa,
always so generous and so good to us! I should think you'd be afraid,
Martie--I should think you'd actually be afraid to talk so wickedly!"

She essayed an embrace of her father, but Malcolm shook her loose, and
crossed the hall; they heard the study door slam. For a few minutes the
sisters stared at each other, then Martie went to the side door, and
called Teddy in as quiet a voice as she could command, and Lydia
vanished kitchenward, with only one scared and reproachful look.

But the evening was not over. After Teddy was in bed, Martie, staring
at herself in the mirror, suddenly came to a new decision. She