Sarah, a dull flush crimsoning her face. "They're
polite enough to my face, but, David, I believe they laugh at us both
behind our backs. Two or three times I've turned around right quick, and
I've seen a look on their faces that made me want to turn 'em out of the
house."

David's face hardened. "Why don't you discharge 'em?" he asked grimly.

"Oh! I don't know how," said Sarah fretfully. "It seems to me you ought
to know that, without being told. I never discharged anybody in my life.
I wouldn't know what to say. Don't you have to give servants warning
before you turn 'em off?"

David deliberated a moment. "Either they have to give you warning, or
you have to give them warning, or maybe it's both," he announced. "I
guess it would take a lawyer to settle that question."

"People that don't know how to get rid of a servant have got no business
with servants," said Sarah bitterly. "Here I am, a stout, able-bodied
woman, holdin' my hands all day, when I ought to be doin' my own work
just as I always have."

"You couldn't do your work in this house," argued David. "It would break
you down if you tried it."

"There it is again," cried Sarah. "The house! It's the house that's to
blame for everything. Why, it was just last week I met Molly Matthews on
the street, and she turned her head away and wouldn't speak to me! Molly
Matthews that nursed me when I had the fever and that's been like a
sister to me all these years!"

David's face darkened angrily. "What right has Molly Matthews to fall
out with you, because you've got a better house than she has? That's
just envy."

"No, it's not envy!" cried Sarah in loyal defense of the absent friend.
"I know Molly as well as I know myself. She hasn't changed, but she
thinks I've changed; she thinks I feel above her just because I've got
this two-story brick. And I don't blame her a bit. When we left
Millville and moved into town, it looked just like we had turned our
backs on all our old friends. I'd feel just as Molly does, if I were in
Molly's place. I've wanted to have Molly and Annie and all the rest of
my friends to spend the day with me,--I've only waited because I wanted
to feel at home in my own house, before I had visitors,--but now I can't
do it. We've got a fine house, David, and plenty of money, but we've
lost our old friends; and what is life without friends?"

The god of Mammon had showered his favors on these simple souls, but
they would never be worshippers