rget
the scene, or rather succession of scenes, enacted at Trevellian House,
when Mrs. Meredith's bills were presented to his mother, who, but for
shame's sake, would have repudiated them at once as something she was
not lawfully obliged to pay.

Neither did he inquire who Mrs. Goodnough was, and did not know that she
was a poor woman who had worked in the fields, and was going out to New
York, not as first-class passenger nor even second, but as steerage, and
Bessie's ticket was of the same nature. She had but little money, and
when she heard from Mrs. Goodnough, who was a friend of Dorothy's, and
who had once been in America, that a steerage passage was oftentimes
very comfortable, and that many respectable people took it because of
its cheapness, she put aside all feelings of pride, and said to Mrs.
Goodnough:

"I will go steerage with you," and from this plan she never swerved.

But she would not tell Neil then; time enough at the last when he came
to see her off, and must, of course, know the truth.

She knew he would be very angry, and probably insist upon paying the
difference, but she could take no more money from him, and her blood was
hot whenever she reflected what she had heard him say to Flossie of the
bills incurred in Rome, and which she meant to pay to the uttermost
farthing, if her life was spared and she found something to do in the
new world, where to work was not degrading. But she must know the
amount, and she timidly asked Neil to tell her how much it was.

"Enough! I assure you. Those Italians are rascals and cheats--the whole
of them; but it need not trouble you, the debt is paid," he said, a
little bitterly. But Bessie insisted upon knowing, and finally wrung
from him that two hundred and fifty pounds would probably cover the
whole indebtedness.

"Bringing mother home and all?" Bessie asked, and he replied:

"Yes, bringing her home and all; that was a useless expense."

He spoke before he thought, and when he saw how quickly the tears came
to Bessie's eyes, he repented the act, and stooping down to kiss her,
said:

"Forgive me, Bessie, I did not mean to wound you; but mother did fret so
about the bills. You know she did not like your mother."

"Tell her I shall pay them all," Bessie answered, as she withdrew
herself from the arm he had thrown round her. "My mother was my own, and
with all her faults I loved her, and I believe she was a good woman at
the last. I should die if I did no