"Take me! I should think not! I wouldn't be hired to leave my own place and go off like a charity case among a lot of rich people who looked down on me because I was poor. I've got too much self-respect to jump at an invitation, like a pickerel at a frog. But there! You never think twice about things." "Suppose I did refuse. You'd fly out at me for not making the most of my chances," said poor Lena, on the verge of tears. Mrs. Quincy was temporarily silenced by the truth of this reply, and Lena pursued her advantage. "Come now, mother, do you want me to get out of it?" "Oh, I suppose you'll have to go, or I won't have no peace to my life," Mrs. Quincy grudgingly responded. "Yes, you shall. If you say so, I'll give it up now and never say another word about it." "And _act_ injured to death," said her mother. "No, you go!" "After you've done everything you can to spoil it for me," answered Lena, not half realizing how well she spoke the truth, and how both by inheritance and by precept her mother had trailed the serpent over her life. To Lena, fortune and misfortune were still things of outward import, and almost synonymous with possession and non-possession. Yet, in spite of Mrs. Quincy's dour looks, Lena found herself singing as she moved swiftly about the room. Spontaneous joy was a rare thing with her. The first peep into the delectable world was entrancing. CHAPTER X BITTER-SWEET It was all charming, if a little strange--the friendliness of Miss Elton when Lena met her at the station, the smart trap and groom that met them at the end of their short journey, the very way in which Miss Elton took possession of those awe-inspiring objects, and the respectful curiosity of the loungers at the country station. As she stepped into the carriage, Lena caught a glimpse of a cart-horse with so many ribs as to suggest that the female of his species had yet to be created. He looked so like her mother, that he gave her a spasm of anguish which she tried to forget, as they were whirled down the road with its fringe of straight-limbed trees. Never had the world looked more lovely. Her spirits were lifted up. Mrs. Lenox met them at the door with hospitable effusiveness, but Lena's crucifixion began from that moment. "The man will carry your bag up for you," said Mrs. Lenox. As Olaf obediently stepped forward, Lena flushed and thought: "They both noticed that it was only imitation leather." Mrs. Lenox walked up stairs with them, chattering gaily with Madeline, and Lena followed in embarrassed silence at the charming freshness and daintiness of everything about her. "I've put you and Miss Elton in adjoining rooms," said Mrs. Lenox, smiling kindly at her, "so that you needn't feel remote and lonely on your first visit here." The man put down the bag and disappeared, and a trim maid came forward to help Lena off with her coat which, with a sudden pang, she wished were lined with satin instead of sateen.