“I am bound to say,” she began, “that, while I put my money in with the rest to get those blankets,—­and am very glad to be able to do it, Mrs. Cliff,—­I don’t think that we ought to do anything which would look as if we were giving our countenances to useless extravagances in persons, even if they are our friends, who, with but small means, think they must live like rich people, simply because they happen to be travelling among them.  It is not for me to allude to hotels in towns where there are good boarding-houses, to vestibule cars and fur-trimmed cloaks; but I will say that when I am called upon to help my friends who need it, I will do it as quick as anybody, but I also feel called upon by my conscience to lift up my voice against spending for useless things what little money a person may have, when that person needs that money for—­well, for things I shall not mention.  And now that I have said my say, I am just as glad to help give you those blankets, Mrs. Cliff, as anybody else is.”

Every one in the room knew that the thing she would not mention was the money Mrs. Cliff had borrowed for her passage.  Miss Shott had not lent any of it, but her brother, a retired carpenter and builder, had, and as his sister expected to outlive him, although he was twelve years younger than she was, she naturally felt a little sore upon this point.

Now Mrs. Cliff was herself again.  She was not embarrassed.  She was neither pale nor trembling.  With a stern severity, not unknown to her friends and neighbors in former days, she rose to her feet.

“Nancy Shott,” said she, “I don’t know anything that makes me feel more at home than to hear you talk like that.  You are the same woman that never could kiss a baby without wanting to spank it at the same time.  I know what is the matter with you.  You are thinking of that money I borrowed from your brother.  Well, I borrowed that for a year, and the time is not up yet; but when it is, I’ll pay it, every cent of it, and interest added.  I knew what I was about when I borrowed it, and I know what I am about now, and if I get angry and pay it before it becomes due, he will lose that much interest, and he can charge it to you.  That is all I have to say to you.

“As for you, Mrs. Perley, and the other persons who gave me these blankets, I want you to feel that I am just as grateful as if—­just as grateful as I can be, and far more for the friendliness than for the goods.  I won’t say anything more about that, and it isn’t necessary, but I must say one thing.  I am ready to take the blankets, and to thank you from the bottom of my heart, but I will not have them unless the money Miss Shott put in is given back to her.  Whatever that was, I will make it up myself, and I hope I may be excused for saying that I don’t believe it will break me.”

Now there was a scene.  Miss Shott rose in anger and marched out of the house.  Mrs. Perley and the other lady expostulated with Mrs. Cliff for a time, but they knew her very well, and soon desisted.  Twenty-five cents was handed to Mrs. Perley to take the place of the sum contributed by Miss Shott, and the ladies departed, and the blankets were taken up-stairs.  Mrs. Cliff gave one glance at them as Willy Croup spread them out.