I don't want any dinner; in fact, I
dined long ago. But you would not be open with me, and I was
forced to find out for myself: you have not enough to eat, and
you know it. I will not say a word about who is to blame--for
anything I know, it may be no one--I am sure it is not you. But
this must not go on! See, I have brought you a little pocket-
book. I will call again tomorrow, and you will tell me then how
you like it."
He laid the pocket-book on the table. There was ten times as much
in it as ever Letty had had at once. But she never knew what was
in it. She rose with instant resolve. All the woman in her waked
at once. She felt that a moment was come when she must be
resolute, or lose her hold on life.
"Cousin Godfrey," she said, in a tone he scarcely recognized as
hers--it frightened him as if it came from a sepulchre--"if you
do not take that purse away, I will throw it in the fire without
opening it! If my husband can not give me enough to eat, I can
starve as well as another. If you loved Tom, it would be
different, but you hate him, and I will have nothing from you.
Take it away, Cousin Godfrey."
Mortified, hurt, miserable, Godfrey took the purse, and, without
a word, walked from the room. Somewhere down in his secret heart
was dawning an idea of Letty beyond anything he used to think of
her, but in the mean time he was only blindly aware that his
heart had been shot through and through.
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