forebearance if not pity, but they exist also among the poor, more
terrible if not more merciless. Such women almost always find material
to torment close at hand. Sometimes in the form of a dependent relative,
sometimes a servant-girl, sometimes a weakly daughter, and this constant
wreaking of a contemptuous spite upon one object produces a
self-satisfaction which is mistaken for cheerfulness, an inward pleasure
in hatred, which appears outwardly as good-humour.

The indignation which always awoke in Anne at the sight and expression
of injustice flared suddenly upwards. Facing the still satisfied woman,
who now drew a chair across the flagged floor with the screech of its
wooden legs upon the stone, she said:

"How can _you_, a strong, active woman, take pleasure in worrying a sick
and ailing fellow-creature. Suppose you were in her place. How can you
expect to find mercy from God in the day of judgment if you have no
mercy on others?"

The woman stared incredulously, and then broke into a loud laugh.

"And I thought you was such a quiet piece. Fancy spitting out like
that." Then her brutality of temper asserted itself.

"_I've_ nothing to do with the day of judgment. I don't see why I should
be called to look after a woman with the temper of a vixen that wants to
be a spoiled darling. The Union's made for such as her and she ought to
be in it. It's just her spite that keeps her out."

"Have you no pity?" said Anne. "_You_ may not always be strong and
able-bodied. The day may come when _you_ need help and comfort, and how