gh of poverty and poor men to know what a terrible temptation a
large sum of money is to those whose whole lives are passed in
scraping up sixpences by weary hard work. It is one thing to write fine
sentiments in books about incorruptible honesty, and another thing to
put those sentiments in practice when one day's work is all that a man
has to set up in the way of an obstacle between starvation and his own
fireside.

The only resource that remained was to carry the pocketbook with me to
Moor Farm, and ask permission to pass the night there. But I could not
persuade myself that there was any real necessity for taking such a
course as this; and, if the truth must be told, my pride revolted at the
idea of presenting myself in the character of a coward before the people
at the farm. Timidity is thought rather a graceful attraction among
ladies, but among poor women it is something to be laughed at. A woman
with less spirit of her own than I had, and always shall have, would
have considered twice in my situation before she made up her mind to
encounter the jokes of plowmen and the jeers of milkmaids. As for me, I
had hardly considered about going to the farm before I despised myself
for entertaining any such notion. "No, no," thought I, "I am not the
woman to walk a mile and a half through rain, and mist, and darkness to
tell a whole kitchenful of people that I am afraid. Come what may, here
I stop till father gets back."

Having arrived at that valiant resolution, the first thing I did was to
lock and bolt the back and front doors, and see to the security of every
shutter in the house.

That duty performed, I made a blazing fire, lighted my candle, and sat
down to tea, as snug and comfortable as possible. I could hardly believe
now, with the light in the room, and the sense of security inspired by
the closed doors and shutters, that I had ever felt even the slightest
apprehension earlier in the day. I sang as I washed up the tea-things;
and even the cat seemed to catch the infection of my good spirits. I
never knew the pretty creature so playful as she was that evening.

The tea-things put by, I took up my knitting, and worked away at it
so long that I began at last to get drowsy. The fire was so bright and
comforting that I could not muster resolution enough to leave it and
go to bed. I sat staring lazily into the blaze, with my knitting on my
lap--sat till the splashing of the rain outside and the fitful, sullen
sobb