"I _am_ glad I went! Such tyranny--such monstrous tyranny!" She stood in front of Gertrude breathing fast, her hands on her hips. "What's the matter?" "My grandmother had a rule--can you imagine anything so cruel!--that no girl--who had gone wrong--was to be allowed in our cottages. If she couldn't be provided for in some Home or other, or if her family refused to give her up, then the family must go. An old man has been up to see me--a widower with two daughters--one in service. The one in service has come to grief--the son of the house!--the usual story!"--the speaker's face had turned fiercely pale--"and now our agent refuses to let the girl and her baby come home. And the old father says--'What am I to do, Miss? I can't turn her out--she's my own flesh and blood. I've got to stick to her--else there'll be worse happening. It's not _justice_, Miss--and it's not Gospel.' Well!"--Delia seated herself with energy,--"I've told him to have her home at once--and I'll see to it." Gertrude lifted her eyebrows, a gesture habitual with her, whenever Delia wore--as now--her young prophetess look. Why feel these things so much? Human nerves have only a certain limited stock of reactions. Avenge--and alter them! But she merely said-- "And the others?" "Oh, a poor mother with eight children, pleading for a cottage with three bedrooms instead of two! I told her she should have it if I had to build it!--And an old woman who has lived fifty-two years in her cottage, and lost all her belongings, begging that she mightn't be turned out--for a family--now that it's too big for her. She shan't be turned out! Of course I suppose it would be common sense"--the tension of the speaker's face broke up in laughter--"to put the old woman into the cottage of the eight children--and put the eight children into the old woman's. But human beings are not cattle! Sentiment's something! Why shouldn't a woman be allowed to die in her old home,--so long as she pays the rent? I hate all this interference with people's lives! And it's always the women who come worst off. 'Oh Mr. Frost, he never pays no attention to us women. He claps 'is 'ands to his ears when he sees one of us, and jest runs for it.' Well, I'll make Mr. Frost listen to a woman!" "I'm afraid Mr. Winnington is his master," said Gertrude quietly. Delia, crimson again, shrugged her shoulders. "We shall see!" Gertrude Marvell looked up. "Look here, Delia, if you're going to play the part of earthly Providence to this village and your property in general--as I've said to you before--you may as well tell the 'Daughters' you can't do anything for them. That's a profession in itself; and would take you all your time." "Then of course, I shan't do it," said Delia, with decision. "But I only want to put in an appearance--to make friends with the people--just for a time, Gertrude! It doesn't do to be _too_ unpopular. We're not exactly in good odour just now, are we?"