Her husband’s suggestion acted like salt rubbed into the wounds occasioned by his statement of fact. She asked why she should always be the sufferer for the delinquencies of her family, and almost persuaded herself that she was their scapegoat. She went back over the years and raked over the ashes of old resentments and grievances, even going so far as to disinter the sacrifice of her carriage at St. Withans.
“The fact remains,” said Francis, “that we owe a large sum of money. I am a clergyman, and my house should be free of the sordid troubles that beset the laity. It is not free of them and I am ashamed.”
“Very well, then,” said Martha, “Let us sell everything, spend everything—the girls will do that easily enough—and then go into the workhouse.”
“Please be reasonable,” rejoined Francis. “We must pay our debts and reduce our expenditure. If necessary, the girls must go out and earn what they can.”
“The girls!”
“There is no shame in honest work, whatever it may be.”
“But they will never marry if they work.”
“Half the women I marry are working women.”
“I won’t discuss it. You have never been the same since we came to this hateful place.”