“I hate to say anything when you’re in such trouble, Mr. Brewster,” said she, “but I do need the money to pay a bill, and I was wondering if you could leave what was due me yesterday, and what will be due me to-day.”

But Fanny came with a rush to Andrew’s relief.  She was in that state of nervous tension that she was fairly dangerous if irritated.  “Look here, Miss Higgins,” said she.  “We hesitated a good deal about havin’ you come here to-day, anyway.  Ellen wanted to send you word not to.  We are in such awful trouble, that she said it didn’t seem right for her to be thinkin’ about new clothes, but I told her she’d got to have the things if she was going to college, and so we decided to have you come, but we ’ain’t had any time nor any heart to think of money.  We’ve got plenty to pay you in the bank, but my husband ‘ain’t had any time to go there this mornin’, what with seein’ the doctor, and gettin’ the certificate for my poor sister, and all I’ve got to say is:  if you’re so dreadful afraid as all this comes to, that you have to lose all sense of decency, and dun folks so hard, in such trouble as we be, you can put on your things and go jest as quick as you have a mind to, and I’ll get Miss Patch to finish the work.  I’ve been more than half a mind to have her, anyway.  I was very strongly advised to.  Lots of folks have talked to me against your fittin’, but I’ve always had you, and I thought I’d give you the chance.  Now if you don’t want it, you jest pack up and go, and the quicker the better.  You shall have your pay as soon as Mr. Brewster can get round after he has carried my poor sister to the asylum.  You needn’t worry.”  Fanny said the last with a sarcasm which seemed to reach out with a lash of bitterness like a whip.  The other woman winced, her eyes were hard, but her voice was appeasing.

“Now, I didn’t think you’d take it so, Mrs. Brewster, or I wouldn’t have said anything,” she almost wheedled.  “You know I ain’t afraid of not gettin’ my pay, I—­”

“You’d better not be,” said Fanny.

“Of course I ain’t.  I know Mr. Brewster has steady work, and I know your folks have got money.”

“We’ve got money enough not to be beholden to anybody,” said Fanny.  “Andrew, you’d better be goin’ along or you’ll be late.”

Andrew went out of the yard with his head bent miserably.  He had felt ashamed of his fear, he felt still more ashamed of his relief.  He wondered, going down the street, if it might not be a happier lot to lose one’s wits like poor Eva, rather than have them to the full responsibility of steering one’s self through such straits of misery.

“I hope you won’t think I meant any harm,” the dressmaker said to Fanny, quite humbly.

There was that about the sister of another woman who was being carried off to an insane asylum which was fairly intimidating.

Miss Higgins sewed meekly during the remainder of the day, having all the time a wary eye upon Fanny.  She went home before supper, urging a headache as an excuse.  She was in reality afraid of Fanny.