"If we were able to pay that claim," remarked Mrs. Darlington.
"True."
"But we are not. Such being the case, are we justified in any longer offering her a home?"
"Where will she go? What will she do?" said Edith.
"Where will we go? What will we do, unless there is a change in our favour?" asked Mrs. Darlington.
"Alas, I cannot tell! When we are weak, small things are felt as a burden. The expense of keeping Mrs. Marion and her two children is not very great. Still, it is an expense that we are unable to meet. But how can we tell her to go?"
"I cannot take my children's bread and distribute it to others," replied Mrs. Darlington, with much feeling. "My first duty is to them."
"Poor woman! My heart aches for her," said Edith. "She looks so pale and heart-broken, feels so keenly her state of dependence, and tries so in every possible way to make the pressure of her presence in our family as light as possible, that the very thought of turning her from our door seems to involve cruelty."
"All that, Edith, I feel most sensibly. Ah me! into what a strait are we driven!"
"How many times have I wished that we had never commenced this business!" said Edith. "It has brought us nothing but trouble from the beginning; and, unless my fears are idle, some worse troubles are yet before us."