ter, a--'

'Tom Tracy!' and Jerrie's parasol was raised so defiantly and her eyes
flashed so indignantly that Tom did not finish what he was going to
say, but cowered a little before the angry girl, who stood so tall
before him and hurled her words at him with such scathing vehemence.
'Tom Tracy! Stop! You have said enough. When you made me believe that
you really did care for me; and I suppose you must, or you would not
have thrown over a governor's daughter for me, or left so many lovelorn,
high-born maidens out in the cold, I was sorry for you, for I hate to
give any one pain, and I would rather have you my friend than my enemy;
but when you taunt me with expectations from your uncle--.'

Here Jerrie paused, for the lump in her throat would not suffer the
words to come, and there arose before her as if painted upon canvas the
low room, the white stove, the firelight on the whiter face, the writing
on the lap, and the little child in the far-off German city. But she
would have died sooner than have told Tom of this, or that the
conviction was strong upon her that she should one day stand there under
the pines, herself the heiress of Tracy Park, Gretchen's memory honored,
and Gretchen's wrongs wiped out.

After a moment she went on:

'I care nothing for your money, and less for you, who show the meanness
there is in your nature when you speak of Harold Hastings as you have
done. Supposing he is poor--suppose he is a painter and a carpenter, and
has been what you started to call him--is he less a man for that? A
thousand times no, and there is more of true manhood and nobility in his
little finger than in your whole body; and if Maude has won his love,
she should be prouder of it than of a duchess' coronet. I do not wish to
wound you, but when you talk of Harold, you make me so mad.
Good-morning; it is time for me to be at my drudgery, as you call it.'

She walked rapidly away, leaving her parasol, which she had again thrust
into the ground, flopping in the breeze which had just sprung up, and
each flop seemed to mock the discomfited Tom, who, greatly astonished
but not at all out of conceit with himself, sat staring blankly after
her, and with her head and shoulders more erect than usual, if possible,
she went on almost upon a run until a turn in the road hid her from
view. Then he arose and shook himself together, and picking up the
soiled parasol, folded it carefully and put it upon the seat, saying as
he did so