“Mr. Anderson's?”
“The grocer's bill,” said Charlotte.
“Oh! I did not know what his name was,” said Mrs. Carroll.
“He probably is well acquainted with ours, on his books,” said Anna.
Mrs. Carroll looked in a puzzled way from her to Charlotte, who had turned with a little air of defiance. “Had he refused to let us have any more groceries?” said she.
“No,” said Charlotte.
“I told you he had not,” said Anna, shaking out a lace handkerchief, which diffused an odor of violet through the room.
“Then why did you pay him, honey?” asked Mrs. Carroll, wonderingly, of Charlotte.
“I paid him just because he had trusted us,” said she, in a voice which rang out clearly with the brave honesty of youth.
Suddenly she looked from her mother to her aunt with accusing eyes. “I don't believe it is right to go on forever buying things and never paying for them, just because a gentleman is kind enough to let you,” said she.