As soon as the soles of Mattie's feet touched the ground, she seemed to gather strength like Antæus; for instead of turning and walking away, with her head as high, morally considered, as that of any giant, she began to parley with the offending Mr. Spelt.
"I have heard, mother—Mr. Spelt—that you should be off with the old love before you're on with the new. You never told me what you were about."
"But you was away from home, Mattie."
"You could have written. It would only have cost a penny. I shouldn't have minded paying it."
"Well, Mattie, shall I turn Poppie out?"
"Oh! I don't want you to turn her out. You would say I drove her to the streets again."
"Do you remember, Mattie, that you wouldn't go to that good lady's house because she didn't ask Poppie, too. Do you?"
A moment's delay in the child's answer revealed shame. But she was ready in a moment.
"Hers is a big house. That's my own very corner."