through, shocked, too, and ready to cry at this first contact and
opinion of her neighbours upon her doings.

"Where's your sister Lizzie, Jane?" she asked.

"Out at service," replied Jane, unwillingly, fidgetting with her hands
and feet.

"So your coming here has meant that _she's_ got no home," said Anne.

"She could have had one if she'd liked," said Burton. "The house is big
enough for us all."

"Thank God for His protecting grace!" said Anne, "she was able to resist
the temptation."

"She'd have had to go out to service in any case," said Jane,
spitefully; "the neighbours was so very kind to two girls."

"Jane, I knew your grandmother," said Anne, "and I know how hard she had
to work to keep you two girls respectably dressed and cared for. I know
you think I'm an interfering, peculiar woman and an old maid, but your
grandmother was no old maid. She lost your mother who'd have worked and
kept her when she was old, and instead of having an arm to lean on,
she'd to work morning, noon, and night, to give you two girls a home.
She was working when other people was sleeping. It's better even to go
to the Union than to do as you've done."

Jane, after twisting her fingers together, pulled out her handkerchief
with a jerk and began to cry, thus rousing the indolent anger of Richard