the passage was unusually rough."

"Where is she going?"

"I don't know; I mean she doesn't know. Her maternal grandmother
was born in Trim, near Tara, in Meath, but she does not think she
has any relations over here. She is entirely alone in the world,
and that gives her a certain sentiment in regard to Ireland, which
she heard a great deal about when she was a child. The maternal
grandmother must have gone to Salem at a very early age, as Benella
herself savours only of New England soil."

"Has she any trade, or is she trained to do anything whatsoever?"
asked Francesca.

"No, she hoped to take some position of 'trust.' She does not care
at all what it is, so long as the occupation is 'interestin' work,'
she says. That is rather vague, of course, but she speaks and
appears like a nice, conscientious person."

"Tell us the rest; conceal nothing," I said sternly.

"She--she thinks that we have saved her life, and she feels that she
belongs to us," faltered Salemina.

"Belongs to us!" we cried in a duet. "Was there ever such a base
reward given to virtue; ever such an unwelcome expression of
gratitude! Belong to us, indeed! We can't have her; we won't have
her. Were you perfectly frank with her?"