"No, thank you," said Margaret. George laughed rather bitterly.
"Are you too proud to accept my help? But you should never refuse a good offer, even from an enemy." Then his tone changed, for the sight of her tired face softened him.
"But I am not your enemy, Margaret—Mrs. Thorpe, I mean. You will not be just to me, that is not to be expected! but you can be generous. Let me do this thing for you—in all good faith!"
He held out his hand, but Meg drew back angrily. How durst he repeat this lie about Barnabas in one breath, and in the next offer to help her? he help her!
"Ah, you hate me too much? But you are very foolish. You are making a mistake," he began; then stopped short, struck dumb by the flash of indignant scorn in her eyes.
"I do not hate you, who swear falsehoods about my husband," she said. "One must have a little respect before one hates! I could not accept any favour from you. It would be easier," said Meg, determined that he should press her no more, and clothing her feeling in the most forcible words she could utter, "it would be easier to take hot burning coals in my bare hands than to take any help from you now."
George Sauls bit his lip and drew back a step. He wondered why this woman's words had such power to hurt him. Then he pulled himself together, and lifted his hat to her.
"Thanks—that was quite plain enough," he said. "I must really have been very dense to have required that, mustn't I? The Psalmist's hot coals were reserved for his enemies' heads, not for their hands, Mrs. Thorpe—but that's a trifle, and I won't press the commodity on you. I most humbly regret having offered my assistance, and can only give you my word that nothing on earth shall ever induce me to attempt such a thing again. Apparently you don't think that my oaths are to be trusted, as a rule; but you may believe in that one."
And Mrs. Thorpe certainly did believe in it.
She was surprised at her own anger; she hardly knew herself in these days. Her indignation was still hot when she reached the tiny room in which she lived, but by that time it had become tinged with anxiety. She feared she had made matters worse for Barnabas by still further embittering his enemy. Yet she could not have let Mr. Sauls help her!