"But, Mr. Willets, I—"
"I don't want to hear any of your reasons, Mrs. Jarvis. You can't have the money to-night."
Mrs. Jarvis moved slowly away, and had nearly reached the door, when a thought of her children caused her to pause.
"I cannot go, Mr. Willets, without the money," she said, suddenly turning, and speaking in an excited tone.
"You will go, I'm thinking, madam," was the cool reply.
"O, sir," changing her tone, "pay me what you owe me; I want it very much."
"O, yes. So you all say. But I am used to such make-believes. You get no money out of me to-night, madam. That's a settled point. I'm angry now—so you had better go home at once; if you don't, I'll never give you a stitch of work, so help—"
Mrs. Jarvis did not pause to hear the concluding words of the sentence.
"What shall I do?" was the almost despairing question that she asked of herself, as she hurried towards her home. On entering the house she made no remark, for there was no one to whom she could tell her troubles and disappointment, with even the most feeble hope of a word of comfort.
"Does Mr. Jarvis live here?" asked a rough voice at the door.