"Well, mother, you know what it is all about," said Susy. "Aunt Church wants to get into one of those almshouses."
"Just like her—stingy old thing!" said Mrs. Hopkins.
"I don't want her to get in, I can tell you, mother; and when Kathleen and I were out I told Kathleen that she was a great deal too rich. She asked me what her means were, and I said I believed she has three hundred pounds put by. Now, mother, don't you call that riches?"
"Three hundred pounds!" said Mrs. Hopkins. "That depends, child. To some it is wealth; to others it is a decent competence; to others, again, it is poverty."
"Kathleen didn't think much of it, mother."
"Well," said Mrs. Hopkins, "I have notions in my head. Maybe this very thing can be turned to good for us; there's no saying. I think if your aunt was sure and certain to get into one of those almshouses she might do a good turn to you, Susy; and she's sure and certain to help Tom a little. But there! we can't look into the future. I am
tired out with one thing and another. Susan, my dear child, where did you get that beautiful pale-blue blouse?"
"I didn't get it through theft, mother, if that's what you are thinking of. I got it honestly, and I am not obliged to tell; and what's more, I won't tell."
Mrs. Hopkins sighed.
"Dear, dear!" she said, and she sat down in the easy-chair which Mrs. Church had occupied and stared into the fire.