Mrs. Forest took the money from his hand and placed it upon the
chimney-piece, intending to put it away presently in the tea-pot in the
corner cupboard, which, however, she forgot to do, otherwise this story
would never have been written.

"I want all that ten shillings to get a new cocoa-matting for the front
room floor," she said, decidedly. "The bricks strike as cold as a grave
since the old matting was took up."

"I must go and grind the turmits for the sheep, and move 'em into the
other fold for the night," said John, knocking out the ashes from his
pipe and rising to go. As he was closing the door behind him he called
to his wife, "You let the cocoa-matting bide, and give Nan a shilling or
two for her gloves."

"That I shall do nothing of the sort, then," shouted Mrs. Forest after
her husband; then, turning on her daughter angrily, she asked: "What do
you want gloves at all for, I should like to know? I don't wear gloves;
and why should you, who do nothing to earn them?"

"I shall be out of my time soon," Nancy answered, beginning to cry; "and
I will pay you back then all I have cost."

"I daresay," sneered her mother; "it'll take all you can earn to deck
yourself out to catch young Mr. Fred's eyes. Don't you think as I'm not
sharp enough to see which way the wind blows."

"Mother!" cried Nancy, rising indignantly to her feet, her eyes
flashing, her cheeks burning with shame and anger. "How dare you talk to
me so? You have no right!"