"They're tasty, Bess," she replied. "Where did you catch 'em? I thought the fishing in the brook wasn't any use nowadays."
The girl stood for a moment, hesitating. Then she thought of the old woman's words of the night before.
"I caught 'em in the pool, gran'," she said.
The iron fork with which Grannie Thornton was conveying a piece of the trout to her mouth dropped from her hand. The last piece she had eaten seemed to choke her. Then she tottered to her feet with a wrench that made her groan.
"You got 'em from the pool!" she screamed. "From the pool, do you say? Don't yer know that's stealing? Didn't I bring you up better'n that? What do you mean by going and being so bad, just 'cause I'm crippled and can't look after yer? Would you grow up to be a thief, child?"
The old woman's strength failed her, and she fell back on the couch. The girl stood for a moment, silent, the tears rolling down her cheeks.
"But you said 'twas all ours, anyway, gran'," she sobbed. "Will I have to go to prison, do you think?"
"Nonsense!" cried Grannie Thornton. "But if Ellison found it out—"
Bess Thornton was darting out of the doorway.
"He'll find it out now," she said, bitterly. "I'll tell him. I don't care what happens to me."