"Difference, ma'am!" ejaculated the young girl, the tears starting into her eyes; "the difference is more than four hours' work!"
"Very likely, very likely, Miss. And how much do you expect for this?"
"I must leave it entirely to you, ma'am."
The poor girl spoke deferentially to this cold-hearted woman, in order to make her generous. Oh! poverty renders even the innocence of seventeen selfish, mundane, and calculating!
"Oh! you leave it to me, do you?" said the woman, turning the shawl over and over, and scrutinising it in all points; but she could not discover a single fault in Ellen's work. "You leave it to me? Well, it isn't so badly done—very tolerably for a girl of your age and inexperience! I presume," she added, thrusting her hand into the till under the counter, and drawing forth sixpence, "I presume that this is sufficient."
"Madam," said Ellen, bursting into tears, "I have worked nearly seventeen hours at that shawl—"
She could say no more: her voice was lost in sobs.
"Come, come," cried the shopwoman harshly, "no whimpering here! Take up your money, if you like it—and if you don't, leave it. Only decide one way or another, and make haste!"
Ellen took up the sixpence, wiped her eyes, and hastily turned to leave the shop.
"Do you not want any more work?" demanded the shopwoman abruptly.