"I was thinking of something, Master Simon," said Katy, after a pause.
"What, Katy?"
"I make four or five dollars a week."
"Is it possible!"
"If you have a mind to sell candy, I will furnish you all you want, so that you can make at least three dollars a week."
The lip of Master Simon slowly curled, till his face bore an expression of sovereign contempt. He rose from his seat, and fixed his eyes rather sternly upon the little candy merchant, who began to think she had made a bad mistake, though all the time she had intended to do a kind act.
"What have I done, Katy, that you should insult me? Do you think I have sunk so low as to peddle candy about the streets?" said he, contemptuously.
"Do you think I have sunk very low, Master Simon?" asked Katy, with a pleasant smile on her face.
"Your business is very low," he replied, more gently.
"Is that business low by which I honestly make money enough to support my sick mother and myself?"