CHAPTER XVIII. MRS. FLANAGAN IS DRIVEN FROM THE FIELD. Miss Jane Wilmot had never been pretty, even when, twenty years before, she could lay claim to being a young lady; and her manners were decided; but a kind smile lighted up her face as she said to Rose: "My child, you seem to be in trouble." "Yes, indeed, madam," said Rose, "I am in great trouble." "Don't think me inquisitive," said Miss Wilmot, "if I inquire into your trouble. I infer that you are in need of money." "Yes, madam, I am very much in need of money, or I would not think of selling my mother's ring." "Your mother--is she living?" "No; she has been dead for five years." "You are not alone in the world?" "No, thank Heaven! I don't know how I could bear to feel myself alone. I have a sick sister and a little brother." "And does the whole burden of their support fall on you?" asked Miss Wilmot, in a tone of sympathy. "Not quite. My little brother Harry earns two dollars a week as a cash-boy." "That is not much help." "It is nearly as much as I earn myself. There is not much to be earned at making vests at thirty-five cents each." "Thirty-five!" repeated Miss Wilmot, indignantly. "Who pays you such a wretched price?" "Walton & Co." "No wonder they prosper, if they pay so little for having their work done. How many vests can you make in a week?" "One vest a day is about as much as I can make, but I have made seven in a week." "And you consider that a good week's work?" asked Miss Wilmot. "Yes, but I cannot average that." "That makes--let me see--two dollars and forty-five cents. You don't mean to say, child, that your united incomes amount to only four dollars and forty-five cents?" "It generally amounts to less, for I cannot average seven vests a week." "Well, well, what are we coming to?" ejaculated Miss Wilmot, pityingly. "You don't look, child, as if you had always been so miserably poor." "I have not. My grandfather was rich, but he took offense at mother's marriage to father and he left all his property to my cousin." "The old wretch! Excuse me, child, I forgot that he was your grandfather. So you were wholly left out of the will?" "If my cousin should die, the whole property would come to us." "He should have left the property between you. But I fancy you think I am a curious old woman, with my questions." "I don't think you an old woman at all, madam." Miss Wilmot smiled. Though she was a spinster of over forty she was not wholly without appreciation of a compliment, and the reply of Rose pleased her. "At any rate, I am old enough to be your mother, my dear," she said. "But that is neither here nor there. How much did you expect to get for that ring?" "I hoped that I might get three dollars," said Rose, hesitatingly. "I owe Mrs. Flanagan--she is my landlady--a dollar and a half, and I could pay that and have a little fund left to fall back upon."