"Very well. And now, for the love of God, answer this," he said, with anxiety; "tell me how, you provide for her—how you get means to buy wood and necessaries?"
"Dear uncle, I am sorry you have found it out. I do not like to speak of it—indeed, I would prefer not—it seems—so—yes—it seems like boasting, or talking too much about myself," said May, while her cheeks flushed crimson.
"Go on; I will know!" he said, harshly.
"Yes, sir. I earn a trifle every two or three weeks by knitting fancy articles, which Mrs. Tabb on C—— Street, disposes of for me—"
"And then—"
"And then, sir, I take care of old Mabel with the proceeds; but please, dear, dear uncle, do not forbid me to continue doing so; pray allow me the privilege of earning a trifle for her benefit while she lives; and then, sir, never—never speak of it to me or any one else, after this," she implored.
"I shall not hinder you, child," said Mr. Stillinghast, repressing a groan of anguish which struggled up from his heart. They went together into the sitting-room; and May spread his supper before him, but he only drank his tea, and pushing his plate away, came and sat in his armchair beside the fire.
"You have taken nothing, sir; pray try and eat this, it is very nice."
"I have such an infernal singing in my ears, that I cannot eat. I can hardly see. Ding, dong—ding, dong. Great Lord! if this should be eternal!" he exclaimed, forgetting the presence of May.
"You are not well, sir. Sit here near the fire; put your feet upon this cushion, so that the soles will be towards the fire, and while you smoke, I will read the paper to you," said May.