"I knew I should astonish you," said the curate. "But the fact is, they tell a most curious story to the effect that she came here to ask you for a coal ticket, and that you did not give her a ticket, but gave her instead a whole gold sovereign—yes, those were the words, 'a whole gold sovereign—to buy coal with.'"
"What an amazing statement!" said Salome. "Of course you did not believe it. As if I should give money to Mrs. Malins, to say nothing of the amount, knowing her as I do!"
"It certainly seemed to me most unlike your usual good sense," replied Mr. Ainger. "But they insist on it that she came back from your house with a sovereign in her possession. The woman who lives in the next room declares that she showed it to her, and said that a young lady here had given it to her. Could she have stolen it, do you think?"
"Not here," said Salome, "for she did not come inside the house. I went to the door and spoke to her. I told her she was not entitled to a ticket, and she went away at once. I remember that she smiled broadly at me, and did not seem to mind my refusal. Perhaps she picked up the sovereign in the street."
"Not very likely. I never pick them up; I wish I could," said Mr. Ainger, with a smile. "I asked Mrs. Malins' little girl if she could tell me how her mother got the money, and she said that when they were waiting at your door, a young lady came out and gave it to her, saying she was to spend it on food and clothes. Of course Mrs. Molina could spend it only in one way. She left her children starving whilst she went off to drink, and when she came home intoxicated, and found them crying for food, she beat them cruelly. I think it is a case for the Society for the Protection of Children. But I should like to know the meaning of this story. Could your sister have given her the money, do you think?"
"Decidedly not," exclaimed Salome quickly. "Hannah is the last person to do such an unwise thing." Then like a flash came the thought of Juliet. Could she have done this thing? It was not impossible. There was no accounting for Juliet's freaks.
"You have another sister," said the curate, with some hesitation.
"Ah, yes, Juliet," said Salome. "I was just thinking that it is not impossible that Juliet may have given Mrs. Maims the money. She is capable of doing the maddest things."
"Don't call it madness," said Mr. Ainger, his manner softening. "It is generosity misapplied. There is something beautiful in the impetuosity with which youth rushes to relieve distress as soon as it is aware of it."
"I cannot call it generosity to throw away a sovereign like that," said Salome, with scarce concealed irritation; "I call it an act of pure folly."