CHAPTER III.
JANE STREET.
Mrs. Carpenter's patient face, as she sat by the window from morning till night, and her restless busy hands, by degrees became a burden to Rotha.
"Mother," she said one day, when her own work for the time was done up and she had leisure to make trouble,—"I do not like to see you doing other people's sewing."
"It is my sewing," Mrs. Carpenter said.
"It oughtn't to be."
"I am very thankful to have it."
"It takes very little to make you thankful, seems to me. It makes me feel angry."
"I am sorry for that."
"Well, if you would be angry, I wouldn't be; but you take it so quietly.
Mother, it's wrong!"