"I only refuse what is impossible for me to accept," returned Queenie in a choking voice. "Ah, you cannot understand, you do not know, that since that terrible night I have nearly lost Emmie." And then she told him, as well as emotion would allow her, of all she had been through.
"Humph! that's why you have grown thin and unsubstantial-looking. I thought there was some change in you. You ought to get heavy damages from those women; but the child is getting well, you say?"
"Yes; but she is not strong, and requires the greatest care. No one could watch over her as I do; I understand her; I know her every look; I see directly she is weary or overdone. It will be months before I can safely leave her, even with Mr. Runciman and Molly."
"I should think the atmosphere of that precious school could not be conducive to the welfare of a nervous invalid," interrupted Mr. Calcott irritably.
"We shall not be there much longer," returned Queenie quietly. "At Easter we are going to Mr. Runciman's for a little visit; and as soon as the warm weather comes I'm going to take Emmie into the country to get strong."
"Indeed I did not know you could afford such luxuries," with biting sarcasm.
Queenie colored, but she went on steadily—
"Neither can we. We are indebted to the kindness of a school friend, who has offered to take us home. I have barely money for our railway journey there and back; but we shall manage somehow."
Mr. Calcott glanced at the girl's shabby dress and cloak, then at the brave face, and somehow his sarcasm vanished.
"I suppose you are too proud to take a five-pound note?" somewhat brusquely.