"Yes, it was--and to see the pains he took that it should not be expensive. He would be quite annoyed if my mother got any thing nicer than usual for his dinner. She used to be obliged to make a mystery of it; and we were forced almost to go down upon our knees to get him to have the surgeon from Nottingham. Nothing but the idea that his life would be more secure in such hands could have persuaded him into it. He knew how important that was to us. As for the pain which the bungling old doctor hard by would have given him, he would have borne that rather than have spent money. Oh, Catherine! there have been times upon times when I have envied the poor. They have hospitals to go to; they are not ashamed to ask for a little wine from those who have it; they can beg when they are in want of a morsel of bread. It is natural. It is right--they feel it to be right. But oh! for those, as they call it, better born, and educated to habits of thought like those of my poor father!... Want is, indeed, like an armed man, when he comes into _their_ dwellings." "Too true, my dear young lady," said Mrs. Danvers, whose eyes were by this time moist; "but go on, if it does not pain you too much, your story is excessively interesting. There is yet a wide step between where your relation leaves us, and where I found you." "We closed his eyes at last in deep sorrow. Excellent man, he deserved a better lot! So, at least, it seems to me--but who knows? Nay, he would have reproved me for saying so. He used to say of _himself_, so cheerfully, 'It's a rough road, but it leads to a good place.' Why could he not feel this for his wife and children? He found that so very difficult!" "He was an excellent and a delightful man," said Catherine. "Well?"... "Well, my dear, when he had closed his eyes, there was his funeral. We _could_ not have a parish funeral. The veriest pauper has a piety toward the dead which revolts at that. We did it as simply as we possibly could, consistently with common decency; but they charge so enormously for such things: and my poor mother would not contest it. When I remonstrated a little, and said I thought it was right to prevent others being treated in the same way, who could no better afford it than we could, I shall never forget my mother's face: 'I dare say--yes, you are right, Lettice; quite right--but not this--not _his_. I can not debate that matter. Forgive me, dear girl; it is weak--but I can not.' "This expense exhausted all that was left of our little money: only a few pounds remained when our furniture had been sold, and we were obliged to give up possession of that dear, dear, little parsonage, and we were without a roof to shelter us. You remember it, Catherine!"