"You are very ungrateful, Juliet," said Salome, as Mrs. Tracy moved quickly back to her place with a look of pain on her face; "mother has been doing nothing all day but wait upon you, and that is how you speak to her!"
Juliet hated herself for her impatient utterance as soon as it had passed her lips. But her sense that it was deserved did not make her less disposed to resent Salome's injudicious speech.
"It was your fault that mother rose to move the screen," she retorted, "for you left the door open. We were comfortable enough till you came in."
"Oh, hush, my dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Tracy, dreading a scene.
The heavy double knock of the postman resounding through the hall afforded a welcome diversion. Salome went out quickly, to find what he had brought. She came back into the room with two letters in her hand. One she gave to her mother; the other, after scrutinising the address with a deliberation that aroused Juliet's ire, though for once she deemed it wise to restrain, she handed to Juliet.
The girl's colour deepened as she looked at it. It was but too evident that the air of indifference with which she thrust it into her pocket and turned again to her novel was assumed.
The sisters looked at each other.
"What book are you reading, Juliet?" asked Hannah, bending forward to read the title on its back. "Oh, how can you waste your time reading such rubbish?"
"It is not rubbish," said Juliet stoutly, "it is a splendid tale."
"Utter trash, if not worse," said Hannah. "I hate to see such a book in our house."