“No, no,” Wint said impatiently. “Of course not. I—”
“The shameless girl!” his mother cried, all her alarm turning into anger. “The shameless hussy. In my house. I declare—”
“Please,” her son protested. His mother got up.
“She sha’n’t sleep another night under my roof,” she declared. “I never thought to live to—”
“Mother,” said Wint, so sternly that his mother stopped in the doorway. “Come back,” he told her. And she obeyed him, protesting weakly. “Sit down,” he said. “Hetty needs our help. Don’t you understand?”
When a wolf is injured, his own pack pulls him down; when a crow is hurt, his fellows of the flock peck him to death relentlessly; but wolf and crow are merciful compared to womankind. There is no deeper instinct in woman than that which condemns the sister who has strayed. It is true that, in many women, the compassion overpowers the cruelty of wrath. But Mrs. Chase was a very simple person, elemental, a woman and nothing more. She sat down at Wint’s command; but she said implacably:
“I won’t have her in the house, Wint. A girl like that. I should think you’d be ashamed to stand up for her. A shameless, worthless thing.... You can talk all you’re a mind to, but I’m going to send her packing. You and your father have your own way, most of the time, but this is once that I’m going to have mine. I always knew she was too pretty for any good. Pretty, and impudent, and all. I won’t have her—”
Wint asked: “Hasn’t she worked hard enough for you? Done her work well? Tried to do what you wanted?”
“Course she’s done her work, or I wouldn’t have kept her. That hasn’t a thing to do with it, Wint. I’m surprised at you, standing up for her. I told Mrs. Hullis, only the other day, that she was too pretty for her own good. I might have known she would get into trouble. The nasty little—”
“Mother,” Wint cried sharply, “I won’t let you talk like that. I told Hetty we’d help her; and she said you’d be against her; and I wouldn’t believe it. I can’t believe it. A poor girl without a friend anywhere, in the worst kind of trouble, and you—”