"Because I think it would be wrong to do such work on the Lord's day," answered Mary.
"Do you think I should ask you to do it, if it were wrong?" returned the dressmaker, angrily. "But I suppose I don't know what is right. You are one of those Pharisees who set themselves up for being better than everybody else. Of course, it is wrong to work upon Sundays as a rule, but this is a case of necessity. And I only want you to come for two hours in the morning. You'd be able to go to your Bible-class in the afternoon, and to church in the evening. What harm could there be in that, just for once?"
"I am very sorry, ma'am," replied Mary, "but I can't think it would be right to do so."
"You'd better say you would rather not oblige me. That would be nearer the truth, I expect," returned Miss Mansfield. "But I won't put up with such hypocritical ways. If you don't choose to help me to-morrow, you need not trouble yourself to come here again."
"Oh, pray do not say that!" exclaimed Mary, imploringly.
"I do say it, and I mean it too," retorted Miss Mansfield, who had worked herself up into a passion. "So now you understand, and can act accordingly. If you don't come to-morrow, you shan't come on Monday. Now which will you do?"
"Indeed, ma'am, I can't come to-morrow," replied Mary, in great distress. "I will work extra hours next week, or do anything I can to oblige you, but I cannot sew on Sunday."
"Very well, then, that is enough," said Miss Mansfield, white with anger. "Now you may put on your things and go home. And remember, I do not wish to see you here again, unless you think better of your refusal to comply with my wishes. Here is your week's wages."
Mary's tears fell fast as she prepared to obey this unkind command. With trembling hands, she slowly put on her bonnet and shawl, and turned to take her leave. She paused for a moment at the door, and cast a beseeching glance of distress at her stern employer.
