"It matters thus much," said Salome. "Mrs. Malins is a woman we are trying to reclaim from drunkenness. By your foolish gift, you have driven her to drink again, for she could not resist the temptation which came with the possession of so much money. If you had confided to me your wish to be generous, I could have told you how to gratify it to better purpose."
"I did not wish to be generous," said Juliet indignantly. "I saw those poor starved looking children, and I wanted to help them. I told her to buy food and clothes for them."
"It was much good to tell her," said Salome. "The children got nothing by it. She left them to starve, and later in her drunkenness beat them because they cried for food."
"But that was not your fault," said the curate, touched by Juliet's troubled look. "No one can blame you for that. Your impulse was most kind, most good. It is only a pity you did not know the woman's character."
His words gave Salome a sharp pang, the nature of which she hardly knew. That she should hear him speak in that warm, approving tone of Juliet's goodness!
But Juliet cared not in the least how Mr. Ainger might regard her action. His approval could yield her no consolation. Vexed and mortified, she turned away; and after a word or two with Mrs. Tracy, the curate quitted the house.
"It is always so, if I try to do any good," said Juliet bitterly to her mother.
They were alone, for Salome had been satisfied without endeavouring to further improve the occasion, and had gone upstairs as soon as Mr. Ainger departed.
"Oh, my dear, you must not let one failure dishearten you," her mother replied.
"It is not one failure," returned Juliet impatiently. "It is always the same. I cannot be good, as I have told you before."