separate papers, which he stowed into one box, and fixed under string.
"This amount, put all in one, doesn't go far, Rhoda."

"No," said she: "I hope we may not need it." She broke out: "Dear, good,
humble friends! The poor are God's own people. Christ has said so.
This is good, this is blessed money!" Rhoda's cheeks flushed to their
orange-rounded swarthy red, and her dark eyes had the fervour of an
exalted earnestness. "They are my friends for ever. They save me from
impiety. They help me, as if God had answered my prayer. Poor pennies!
and the old man not knowing where his days may end! He gives all--he
must have true faith in Providence. May it come back to him multiplied a
thousand fold! While I have strength to work, the bread I earn shall be
shared with him. Old man, old man, I love you--how I love you! You drag
me out of deep ditches. Oh, good and dear old man, if God takes me
first, may I have some power to intercede for you, if you have ever
sinned! Everybody in the world is not wicked. There are some who go the
ways directed by the Bible. I owe you more than I can ever pay."

She sobbed, but told Robert it was not for sorrow. He, longing to catch
her in his arms, and punctilious not to overstep the duties of his post
of guardian, could merely sit by listening, and reflecting on her as a
strange Biblical girl, with Hebrew hardness of resolution, and Hebrew
exaltation of soul; beautiful, too, as the dark women of the East. He
admitted to himself that he never could have taken it on his conscience
to subdue a human creature's struggling will, as Rhoda had not hesitated
to do with Dahlia, and to command her actions, and accept all imminent
responsibilities; not quailing with any outcry, or abandonment of
strength, when the shock of that revelation in the vestry came violently
on her. Rhoda, seeing there that it was a brute, and not a man, into
whose hand she had perilously forced her sister's, stood steadying her