ong fit of
hysterical sobbing. She would not come down to tea, and excused herself
on the ground of sickness. Catharine went up to her mother and inquired
what was the matter, but was repulsed.

"Nothing is the matter--at least, nothing you can understand. I am very
unwell; I am better alone; go down to Mrs. Bellamy."

"But, mother, it will do you good to be downstairs. Mrs. Bellamy will be
so glad to see you, and she was so kind to me; it will be odd if you
don't come."

"Go _away_, I tell you; I am best by myself; I can endure in solitude;
you cannot comprehend these nervous attacks, happily for you; go _away_,
and enjoy yourself with Mrs. Bellamy and your sausages."

Catharine had had some experience of these nervous attacks, and left her
mother to herself. Mrs. Bellamy and Catharine consequently had tea
alone, Mr. Furze remaining at his shop that afternoon, as he had been
late in arrival.

"Sorry mother's so poorly, Catharine. Well, how do you like the
Terrace?"

"I hate it. I detest every atom of the filthy, stuck-up, stuccoed hovel.
I hate--" Catharine was very excited, and it is not easy to tell what
she might have said if Mrs. Bellamy had not interrupted her.

"Now, Miss Catharine, don't say that; it's a bad thing to hate what we
must put up with. You never heard, did you, as Bellamy had a sister a
good bit older than myself? She _was_ a tartar, and no mistake. She
lived with Bellamy and kept house for him, and when we married, Bellamy
said she must stay with us. She used to put on him as you never saw, but
he, somehow, seemed never to mind it; some men don't feel such things,
and some do, but most on 'em don't when it's a woman, but I think a
woman's worse. Well, what was I saying?--she put on me just in the same
way and come between me and the servant-girl and the men, and when I told
them to go and do one thing, went and told them to do another, and I was
young, and I thought when I was married I was going to be mistress, and
she called me 'a chit' to her brother, and I mind one day I went upstairs
and fell on my knees and cried till I thought my heart would break, and I
said, 'O my God, when will it please Thee to take that woman to Thyself!'
Now to wish anybody dead is bad enough, but to ask the Lord to take 'em
is awful; but then it was so hard to bear 'cause I couldn't say nothing
about it, and I'm one of them as can't keep myself bottled up like ginger-
beer. You don't remember old