"Why, mother, it's better to be poor than to be rich like that," said Winny quickly. "I'd rather be as we are than have everybody hating father, and—"
"Well, but Mr. Rutter ain't obliged to be so hard and disagreeable," interrupted her mother; "he wasn't always so."
"No; but, don't you see, he's got to love money better than anything else now. He used to think about neighbours and friends once in a friendly way, but he's got to think so much of his contracts and how much money he can make by them that he forgets everything else, and God won't let the man be happy or comfortable who thinks of nothing else but making money."
But Mrs. Chaplin shook her head dissentingly. "I don't know so much about that," she said. "It's a shame that the Rutters don't make themselves more comfortable, for they've got everything to do it with; and yet my heart aches sometimes for the poor thing, she seems to have got so afraid of her husband lately."
"And that poor girl, too—Lizzie isn't it? I had almost forgotten her, mother; she looks more like an old woman than a girl."
"Yes, she does. But I don't wonder you have forgotten her. The Rutters always did hold their heads very high, and when they moved into a bigger house, Mr. Rutter forbid them having anything to do with old friends. He wanted everybody to forget what he had been, and to set up for something better than a dock hand."
While she was talking, the needle was driven in and out of the stubborn sacking, for if the sacks were all to be finished in time, she must sit closely to her task.
When Letty came in, she went to get two pints of soup at the mission-hall in the neighbourhood, and by this means, Mrs. Chaplin and the girls could have a warm nourishing meal without loss of time, for this was a consideration to-day.
When dinner was over and the table cleared, Letty sat down to sew at one of the sacks. Winny would have liked to do the same, but it was impossible for her to attempt such heavy work. But if ever she was tempted to repine at her helpless condition, it was under such circumstances as these, when every stitch made some difference in the task, and yet she could do nothing to help.
"Mother, I could read to you this afternoon," she suddenly said, her face brightening at the thought. "I've got a book here Miss Lavender brought me last week."