"It’s no use," he said. "No earthly use! I do the best I can--for the entire family--to keep things as decent as possible; but I can’t. I get no help. I can’t do it alone!" "But Eddie, my dear boy!" said Polly. "It was only to spare your feelings." He shook his head. "It wasn’t. You have some reason which I’ll never know. I’m not blaming you, Polly. I know you do what you think is best; but if you’d only be _honest_, regardless of what might happen!" He stopped, for he had caught Angelica’s eye. He stopped, and his startled and arrested look said, almost as plainly as words: "I believe _you_ to be honest!" He was as much surprised as if she had but that instant appeared. Indeed, one might quite truly say that he had never before seen her. She looked so hardy, so bold, so independent, in all ways so different from the two other women who had just humiliated him. He felt a new and sudden interest in her. CHAPTER NINE I Angelica was consumed, devoured, by curiosity. She felt obliged to know more of this family--of Vincent, above all. So the next morning she got up very early, went down into the kitchen regions, and sought out a snub-nosed maid who had seemed disposed to be friendly when they had passed each other in the hall. The girl wasn’t busy. She was sitting on the back steps, enjoying the fresh morning; and as soon as she saw Angelica she moved over, hospitably, to make a place for her. "Sit down," she said. "It’s a nice day, isn’t it?" Angelica did sit down, and for a time was silent, looking before her across lawns as smooth and empty as those at the front of the house. Nothing at all back-doorish about the outlook; the same air of prosperous peace; in the distance other houses among their lawns, and well-trimmed trees, and overhead a lovely May morning sky. "Yes," she said, "it’s certainly a nice day." She fell silent again, trying to arrange an opening for her questions; but the snub-nosed maid spared her the trouble. "Well!" she said. "How do you like it up-stairs?" Angelica at once perceived that the other girl was curious. "Oh-h-h!" she said slowly. "I suppose it’s all right." Another silence, during which they appraised each other according to their tradition. A mutual confidence was born. "They’re a queer bunch," said the girl. "I never saw the like; and I’ve been with seven families, too." Here she courteously gave Angelica a brief history of her life and condition. Her name was Annie McCall, born in Scotland, but brought up in America, a member of the Plymouth Brethren, twenty-seven, and engaged to be married. She was extremely severe in her views, which were often similar to Angelica’s, especially in regard to the immoralities of the rich. There was this difference, though--Annie was confident that she knew everything, and was infallibly right, while Angelica was anxious to learn.