here at this counter, with Mike's own hard-'arned money? and it's
chaiting us they are. Give me back my money." And she looked at Clara
as though she meant to attack her across the counter.

"Mr. Fitzgerald is going to put up a mill of his own, and then the
corn will be better ground," said Emmeline Fitzgerald, deprecating
the woman's wrath.

"Put up a mill!" said the woman, still in scorn. "Are you going to
give me back my money; or food that my poor bairns can ate?"

This individual little difficulty was ended by a donation to the
angry woman of another lot of meal, in taking away which she was
careful not to leave behind her the mess which she had brought in her
handkerchief. But she expressed no thanks on being so treated.

The hardest burden which had to be borne by those who exerted
themselves at this period was the ingratitude of the poor for whom
they worked;--or rather I should say thanklessness. To call them
ungrateful would imply too deep a reproach, for their convictions
were that they were being ill used by the upper classes. When they
received bad meal which they could not cook, and even in their
extreme hunger could hardly eat half-cooked; when they were desired
to leave their cabins and gardens, and flock into the wretched
barracks which were prepared for them; when they saw their children
wasting away under a suddenly altered system of diet, it would have
been unreasonable to expect that they should have been grateful.
Grateful for what? Had they not at any rate a right to claim life,
to demand food that should keep them and their young ones alive? But
not the less was it a hard task for delicate women to work hard, and
to feel that all their work was unappreciated by those whom they so
thoroughly commiserated, whose sufferings they were so anxious to
relieve.

It was almost dark before they left Berryhill, and then they had to
go out of their way to pick up Aunt Letty at Mr. Townsend's house.

"Don't go in whatever you do, girls," said Herbert; "we should never
get away."

"Indeed we won't unpack ourselves again before we get home; will we,
Clara?"

"Oh, I hope not. I'm very nice now, and so warm. But, Mr. Fitzgerald,
is not Mrs. Townsend very queer?"

"Very queer indeed. But you mustn't say a word about her before Aunt
Letty. They are sworn brothers-in-arms."

"I won't of course. But, Mr. Fitzgerald, she's very good, is she
not?"

"Yes, in her way. Only it's a pity she's so prejudiced