A tearful silence fell upon them then, for, however callous women’s hearts may be, there is always one string that vibrates at the thought of the little suit no longer needed.
“Ladies, I have here another letter from Mrs. Haloran, written the next day. She says:
“My dear Madam:
“After a night of self-abasement I write to tell you how deeply I regret my action of yesterday and how gladly I would recall it if I could. I cannot yet bring myself to feel that I should have kept the things, but this was an ignoble use to make of the blessed Word of God, and I am filled with sorrow that I should have done it. I will only say in palliation that my husband’s salary has been so long overdue—’”
“That’s it!” exclaimed the treasurer. “I thought so!”
“‘—that we have not been able to spend anything this fall for clothing, for we will not go in debt. We needed everything that is warm, for it is bitter cold out here. You can imagine how like a mockery the barrel seemed to me. We had even used the children’s candy money to finish paying the freight.’”
From all over the house came shocked exclamations of “O-h! O-h!” “The children’s candy money!” “Shame!”
“‘What I did was against my husband’s earnest wishes and entreaties. I know now that he was right and I was wrong; but oh, if the church at home could only be brought to see that what we need is not charity but honest pay!
“Yours for the cause,
“Mary C. Haloran.”