Fools, and fools only, mock at sin!
CHAPTER VIII.
THE GREEN VELVET DRESS.
“Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith.”—Prov. xv. 17.
“Wrap your cloak tight round you, my lass; for the wind’s bitter cold this morning: and here—see—you wouldn’t be the worse of my bit of a shawl under it.”
“Oh but, mother, remember your rheumatics.”
“I’m a’most right again, Jenny, and I ben’t out in the cold,” said the poor woman, stirring the few glowing embers which scarcely gave even the appearance of a fire.
“And come back soon again, Jenny dear,” cried a pale, bare-footed little boy, running from the corner; “I hope the grand lady won’t keep you long.”
“I must seek for early violets in the hedges for you, Tommy.”