BE PAID.

Then arose a picture of her sister Monica, with her puny social
pretensions. Recognition of those in a higher grade bread and meat
and drink to her. Adulation and gross flattery the very breath of
her nostrils.

Her brother's cheap, narrow platitudes about the rights of rank and
wealth.

To Angela wealth had no rights except to bring happiness to the
world. It seemed to bring only misery once people acquired it. Grim
sorrow seemed to stalk in the trail of the rich.

She could not recall one moment of real, unfeigned happiness among
her family. The only time she could remember her father smiling or
chuckling was at some one else's misfortune, or over some cruel
thing he had said himself.

Her sister's joy over some little social triumph--usually at the
cost of the humiliation of another.

Her brother's cheeriness over some smart stroke of business in which
another firm was involved to their cost.

Parasites all!

The memory of her mother was the only link that bound her to her
childhood. The gentle, uncomplaining spirit of her: the unselfish
abnegation of her: the soul's tragedy of her--giving up her life at