"None to-day," quietly replied Rachel; but she saw that he knew all, and she was too sincere to feign ignorance. "Mr. Jones," she said, somewhat sadly, "I must go where I am told, and do as I am bid; but, indeed, why do you not keep better tea?"
"Better tea! better tea!" echoed Mr. Jones, in some indignation.
"Yes," quietly said Rachel, "better tea."
Mr. Jones smiled an injured smile, and rather sarcastically replied:
"Miss Gray, if you prefer that feller's tea to mine, you're welcome to leave your money to him, and not to me. 'Tain't because my daughter is prenticed to you that I expect nothink from you, Miss. All I say is this: don't go there at night, Miss Gray, and buy your tea, and then come here in the morning and buy your sugar. That's not giving a man your custom, you know it ain't. Don't do it; no offence meant, but I'm like you, Miss Gray, plain spoken, you see."
And he resumed the breaking of his sugar.
"I prefer!" sadly said Rachel, "when you know, Mr. Jones, that I am no one now, but must go by the will of another—indeed, you wrong me!"
Jones knew he did; but misfortune makes men wilfully unjust.
"Don't mention it," he interrupted, "ladies like new faces, and he's a young fellow, and I am an old one, and so there's an end of it."
Poor Rachel looked much pained. To be blamed by every one seemed her lot.