"Have you any French blood?"

"Yes; my mother was French."

"But you do good works; I remember how you nursed the kitchenmaid at
Groombridge."

"I like to stop pain, but not because it is a good work. I can't stand
all the fuss about good works and committees, and nonsense about loving
the poor. It's a way rich people have to make themselves feel
comfortable. Don't you think so?"

"No, I don't. I know people who make themselves exceedingly
uncomfortable because they give away half what they possess."

"Really," said Molly, a little contemptuously. She knew that he was
thinking of Rose Bright. "My opinion is that doing good works means to
bustle about trying to get as much of other people's money to give away
as you can, without giving any yourself."

Edmund did not like to suggest that this opinion might be the result of
special experiences gained while living in the house of Mrs. Delaport
Green.

"If," Molly went on, evidently glad to relieve her mind on the subject,
"you got the money to pay your unfortunate dressmaker, there would be
some justice in that. But," she suddenly sat up and her eyes shot fire
at Edmund, "to fuss at a bazaar to show your kindness of heart while you
know you are not going to pay the woman who made the very gown you have
on, is perfectly sickening."