Her father did not know how to meet it. Never before in her life, to his knowledge, had Tillie considered her own benefit before his and that of his wife and children. That she should dare to do so now seemed to knock the foundations from under him.
"When I'm dead, won't you and the others inherit off of me all I've saved?" he feebly inquired.
"But that will be when I'm too old to enjoy or profit by it."
"How much do you want I should give you out of your wages every month, then?"
"You can't give me what is not yours to give."
"Now don't you be sassin' me, or I'll learn you!"
They were alone in her school-room on a late February afternoon, after school had been dismissed. Tillie quickly rose and reached for her shawl and bonnet. She usually tried to avoid giving him an opportunity like this for bullying her, with no one by to protect her.
"Just stay settin'," he growled sullenly, and she knew from his tone that he had surrendered.
"If you'll come home to board, I won't bother you no more, then," he further humbled himself to add. The loss even of the twelve dollars' board was more than he could bear.
"It would not be safe," answered Tillie, grimly.