oil-cloth, and that the articles of furniture were few, only the
most indispensable, and all very shabby. Everything seemed to be
dusty and musty. The only approach to an ornament was a framed
diploma hanging over the mantelpiece, certifying that John Alfred
Smales was a duly qualified pharmaceutical chemist. A low fire
burned in the grate, and before it, in a chair which would probably
have claimed the title of easy, sat the girl Harriet Smales, her
head in bandages.

She received Miss Rutherford rather sulkily, and as she moved,
groaned in a way which did not seem the genuine utterance of pain.
After a few sympathetic remarks, the teacher began to touch upon the
real object of her visit.

"I have no intention of blaming you, Harriet; I should not speak of
this at all, if it were not necessary. But I must ask you plainly
what reason you had for speaking of Ida Starr's mother as they say
you did. Why did you say she was a bad woman?"

"It's only what she is," returned Harriet sullenly, and with much
inward venom.

"What do you mean by that? Who has told you anything about her?"

Only after some little questioning the fact was elicited that
Harriet owed her ideas on the subject to a servant girl in the
house, whose name was Sarah.

"What does Sarah say, then?" asked Miss Rutherford.