Her father came to the door with the check in his hand.

"Just sign your name on the back of this, Beth," said he, "and I'll
get it cashed for you."

The girl shook her head.

"No, father," she answered. "If I decide to go to Aunt Jane's I must
buy some clothes; and if you get the money I'll never see a cent of
it."

"When will you decide?" he asked.

"There's no hurry. I'll take time to think it over," she replied. "I
hate Aunt Jane, of course; so if I go to her I must be a hypocrite,
and pretend to like her, or she never will leave me her property.

"Well, Beth?"

"Perhaps it will be worth while; but if I go into that woman's house
I'll be acting a living lie."

"But think of the money!" said her mother.

"I do think of it. That's why I didn't tell you at once to send the
check back to Aunt Jane. I'm going to think of everything before I
decide. But if I go--if I allow this money to make me a hypocrite--I
won't stop at trifles, I assure you. It's in my nature to be
dreadfully wicked and cruel and selfish, and perhaps the money isn't
worth the risk I run of becoming depraved."