I will not give the conversation that followed her announcement
that she was going to visit Mary Marston. Her aunt met it with
scorn and indignation. Ingratitude, laziness, love of low
company, all the old words of offense she threw afresh in her
face. But Letty could not help being pleased to find that her
aunt's storm no longer swamped her boat. When she began, however,
to abuse Mary, calling her a low creature, who actually gave up
an independent position to put herself at the beck and call of a
fine lady, Letty grew angry.
"I must not sit and hear you call Mary names, aunt," she said.
"When you cast me out, she stood by me. You do not understand
her. She is the only friend I ever had-except Tom."
"You dare, you thankless hussy, to say such a thing in the house
where you've been clothed and fed and sheltered for so many
years! You're the child of your father with a vengeance! Get out
of my sight!"
"Aunt--" said Letty, rising.
"No aunt of yours!" interrupted the wrathful woman.
"Mrs. Wardour," said Letty, with dignity, "you have been my
benefactor, but hardly my friend: Mary has taught me the
difference. I owe you more than you will ever give me the chance
of repaying you. But what friendship could have stood for an hour
the hard words you have been in the way of giving me, as far back
as I can remember! Hard words take all the sweetness from
shelter.
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