"Oh, mother!" exclaimed Agnes, looking very disappointed. "If you find out that it is true—that Melina's grandmother does drink—what then? You won't want me to give up going to Sunday school with her, will you? No one has anything to do with her but me, except to make fun of her."
Agnes had been attracted to Melina at first because she had pitied her, but there was a warmer feeling in her heart for her than pity now. During the last two months she and Melina had attended Sunday school together regularly, and a friendship had sprung up between them which surprised their other schoolfellows.
"You may be sure I shall not stop your going to Sunday school with Melina," Mrs. Brown said, "but do not ask her to tea till I have spoken to your father. You see, my dear, if she comes here you will probably be invited to her home afterwards, and—"
"Oh no, I don't think so!" Agnes interposed; "Melina says her grandmother never sees anyone except on business."
"On business? What business?"
"I don't know—Melina doesn't know either."
Mrs. Brown was about to put more questions, but at that minute her little sons returned from school, and no more was said about Mrs. Berryman then. Later in the evening she asked her husband to try to find out all he could about the old woman, which he accordingly did, with the result that they both felt regretful that an intimacy should have sprung up between their little daughter and Melina Berryman.
"You say that Mrs. Berryman is addicted to bouts of drunkenness, and that she is supposed to carry on business as a money-lender!" exclaimed Mrs. Brown, in accents of dismay, when she had heard all her husband had to tell. "How shocking! And I thought she was so poor!"
Mr. Brown shook his head. "At any rate she is able to lend money, I am informed," he said, then went on to explain. "She does business in this way: she will lend sixpence on Monday and have it repaid to her with another sixpence added to it at the end of the week. That's usury, of course, and, as you may imagine, her dealings are all with very poor people. I'm told she's a grasping, conscienceless old woman; and I can't help wishing that Agnes had not taken this fancy to her grandchild."
"I wish the same," Mrs. Brown answered, with a troubled sigh, "for we know what Agnes is—very affectionate and kind-hearted; she wants me to ask Melina here to tea on Saturday, but—" She broke off and looked at her husband doubtfully.