“What a travesty my efforts at pride are with you!” she cried. “I begin by trying to preserve some proper dignity, and end by confessing abject poverty. I yet have the ten you paid me the other day, but twenty-four dollars are not much to set up housekeeping on, and I would be more glad than I can say for these very things.”
“Thank you,” said the Harvester. “I will take them when I go. Is there anything else?”
“I think not.”
“Will you have a drink?”
“Yes, if you have more with you. I believe it is really cooling my blood.”
“Are you taking the medicine?”
“Yes,” she said, “and I am stronger. Truly I am. I know I appear ghastly to you, but it's loss of sleep, and trying to lay away poor Aunt Molly decently, and——”
“And fear of Uncle Henry,” added the Harvester.
“Yes,” said the Girl. “That most of all! He thinks I am going to stay here and take her place. I can't tell him I am not, and how I am to hide from him when I am gone, I don't know. I am afraid of him.”
“Has he any claim on you?”