"I'll ask Millie what she wants," said he at last, bringing himself to consider Ellen's question. "And I'll ask Dr. Wescoe whether he would like to buy the medicines and the books."
"Not the books!" Ellen began to twist her hands together in the most excited way.
"Very well!" he answered impatiently. "As you like."
Mrs. Sassaman also approached with a question.
"When, then, am I to go?" Her large face was pale and her hands drooped from the wrist joints, like the front paws of a rabbit sitting upon its haunches. She might have been asking for the date of her execution.
"I'm going to be married on Saturday at meeting," said Matthew.
"Well, I guess I'll go then Saturday morning."
"You're going to your sister?" asked Matthew kindly, putting his hand into his pocket. "I'll pay you now—for the whole week, though it isn't due till Monday."
Mrs. Sassaman did not hold out her hand and Matthew laid the money in her lap, the last full salary he would have to pay for domestic service. Suddenly he was amazed. Mrs. Sassaman rose and the money dropped to the floor.