itself to her torments. She was
shamed in her pride as a mother, shamed before the girl for whom she
nourished a deep affection. Emma's injuries she felt charged upon
herself; she would never dare to stand before her again. Her moral code,
as much a part of her as the sap of the plant and as little the result
of conscious absorption, declared itself on the side of all these
rushing impulses; she was borne blindly on an exhaustless flux of words.
After vain attempts to make herself heard, Alice turned away and sat
sullenly waiting for the outburst to spend itself. Herself comparatively
unaffected by the feelings strongest in her mother, this ear-afflicting
clamour altogether checked her sympathy, and in a great measure overcame
those personal reasons which had made her annoyed with Richard. She
found herself taking his side, even knew something of his impatience
with Emma and her sorrows. When it came to rebukes and charges against
herself her impatience grew active. She stood up again and endeavoured
to make herself heard.

'What's the good of going on like this, mother? Just because you're
angry, that's no reason you should call us all the names you can turn
your tongue to. It's over and done with, and there's an end of it. I
don't know what you mean about disgracing you; I think you might wait
till the time comes. I don't see what I've done as you can complain of.'

'No, of course you don't,' pursued her mother bitterly. 'It's the money
as prevents you from seeing it. Them as was good enough for you before
you haven't a word to say to now; a man as works honestly for his living
you make no account of. Well, well, you must go your own way--'

'What is it you want, mother? You don't expect me to look no higher than
when I hadn't a penny but what I worked for? I've no patience with you.
You ought to be glad--'

'You haven't no patience, of course you haven't. And I'm to be glad when
a son of mine does things as he deserves to be sent to prison for! I
don't understand that kind o' gladness. But mind what I say; do what you
like with your money, I'll have no more part in it. If I had as much as
ten shillings a week of my own, I'd go and live by myself, and leave you
to take your own way. But I tell you what I _can_ do, and what I will.
I'll have no more servants a-waitin' on _me_; I wasn't never used to it,
and I'm too old to begin. I go to my own bedroom upstairs, and there I
live, and there 'll be nobody go into that