"What do you know about how I feel?" she demanded, swooping down upon me so that I involuntarily shrank back against the fence. "It is all very pretty for you to have ideas of charity, and play at taking care of the sick. I dare say you mean well enough, Miss Privet, but this isn't a case for you. Go home, and let Providence take care of that girl. God'll look after her!"
I stood up straight, and faced her in my turn.
"Stop!" I cried. "I'm not a believer in half the things you are, but I do have some respect for the name of God. If you mean to kill this girl, don't try to lay the blame on Providence!"
She shrank as if I had struck her; then she rallied again with a sneer.
"I think I know better than an atheist what it is right to say about my own religion," was her retort.
Somehow the words appealed to my sense of humor, and unconsciously I smiled.
"Well," I said, "we will not dispute about words. Only I think you had better go now."
Perhaps my slight smile vexed her; perhaps it was only that she saw I was off my guard. She turned quickly, and before I had any notion of what she intended, she had run swiftly up the path to the house. I followed instantly. The idea of having a personal encounter with Mrs. Webbe was shocking, but I could not let her go to trouble Julia without making an effort to stop her. I thought I might reach the door first, but she was too quick for me. Before I could prevent her, she had crossed the kitchen and opened the door of the sick-room. I followed, and we came almost together into the room, although she was a few steps in advance. She went hastily to the bed. Julia had been awakened by the noise, and stared at Mrs. Webbe in a fright.
"Oh, here you are, are you?" Mrs. Webbe began. "How did you dare to say that my son was the father of your brat? I'd like to have you whipped, you nasty slut!"
"Mrs. Webbe," I said resolutely, "if you do not leave the house instantly, I will have you arrested before the sun goes down."