"My character would not allow of it. The respectability of my house must be maintained."
Mehalah thought for awhile.
"I cannot make up my mind at once," she said.
"It will be a great relief to you to get rid of your mother."
"Yes, immeasurable."
"I thought as much!" with a toss of the head and curl of the lip.
Mehalah did not give attention to these marks of contempt. Presently she asked, "And who will attend to my mother?"
"I will."
"You!" exclaimed Glory, with a flash of her old indignation. "You, who neglect and illtreat the husband who lifted you out of the gutter! You who have not gratitude and generosity to the man to whom you owe your position and comforts! How would you treat a poor, helpless, aged woman trusting to your mercy unconditioned, when the man who bound you to him by most solemn and sacred promises is insulted, and neglected, and degraded by you? No, never. My mother shall never, never be left to you of all women in the world. Never, never, never!" she beat her hand on the gate. "Let me bear my burden, let it crush me, but she shall not be taken from me and die of neglect and cruel treatment. I can bear!" she raised herself with a poor effort of her old energy; "I will bear all for her. She once bore with me."
"Drab!" hissed Admonition, and she flung past her, shaking the gate furiously as she went by.
It was with carnation in her cheek as well as in her dress and hat that she appeared before Mrs. De Witt and Elijah Rebow.
Mrs. De Witt drew back to let Mrs. Pettican in.
"I think you was passing out," said the latter; "madam, your servant."
"Your servant, madam," from Mrs. De Witt, still lingering.
"Now then, one at a time. Aunt, go out and shut the door," said Rebow peremptorily, and the old woman was obliged to obey.
