One of Mr. Richards’ driving horses was sold, and his wife, upon learning of the circumstance, lifted up her hands and scornfully exclaimed:
“Retrenchment!”
CHAPTER IX.
CHANGE OF FORTUNE.
A few mornings after Star’s emancipation from her duties as a servant, she encountered, as she was coming down stairs to her breakfast, Josephine, who was also on her way to the dining-room.
“Well, I suppose you feel mighty set up over the fine show you made of yourself the other day,” that young lady remarked, sneeringly.
“I had no desire to make a ‘show,’ as you express it,” Star answered, courteously, and ignoring her companion’s rudeness. “But it is always pleasant to receive thanks when one has tried to do one’s best.”
“Thanks!” was the scornful rejoinder. “You have been very sly about it all; and I should think you’d feel mean enough about wheedling papa into giving you music and painting lessons.”
“I have never asked Mr. Richards for either, and—I am not going to take painting lessons at all,” Star said, with scarlet cheeks.
“You needn’t try to make me think papa would ever have made such a row if you hadn’t been at him and pretended to be so abused and ill-treated. But—where did you get that lovely cameo that you wore in that knot at your throat?” Josephine asked, her eyes having been sharp enough to detect the pretty trinket.
“It was given to me by a friend,” the young girl answered, with trembling lips, for she was cut to the heart by the unjust accusations heaped upon her.