A flush shot over the refined face, the basket was put down, and she faced the woman and the group that had gathered curiously around her. “Now, what is the matter? And what does all this mean?” A torrent of abuse was poured upon her. She stood perfectly still, and her face was now white but firm. Presently, when there was a lull, she said, in a quiet, penetrating voice, “How hard and unkind you women can be!” “Clear out! We don’t want none of your tongue!” “I shall not go until you have let me say one thing,” she said, becoming suddenly brave. “I have as much right as anybody to come here and try to sell things. Why are you angry with me? Have I ever done you any harm?” There were more shouts of scorn and anger, and nobody was courageous enough to say a word in favour of the stranger. In the crowd was a woman whose child she had nursed through two nights of croup, and another whose house she had cleaned because the mistress’s hand had been hurt. The Basket Woman looked into the faces of these women with pathetic wonder and disappointment, while all sorts of things were shouted at her and of her. Then she turned sorrowfully, and, taking up her basket, walked slowly out of the court. “I hope you will let me come again, when you are not quite so angry with me, because I like you, and I thought some of you were my friends.” As she said the words her eyes fell on the face of Fanny Burton, who looked sorry for her part in the matter, and who felt more than a little doubtful as to whether she had not made a mistake. But the woman herself was so sorely disappointed that the tears sprang to her eyes, and her lips quivered, as she slowly, and with gentle dignity, made her way along the court to the street at the end of it. “Drive her out!” somebody hissed presently, and then there was sound of hurrying feet behind her. She quickened her steps a little, but before she reached the entrance to the court a big boy of eighteen came hastily behind her and gave her a push of so violent a character that she was propelled suddenly into the street and fell. With a wild yell the women took to their heels, and, running up Paradise Grove, disappeared in their houses. The Basket Woman lay stunned in the street, her head having come in contact with the kerb-stone, and she remained for several moments insensible. A lady who was passing in her carriage had seen the sudden rush in the street, and immediately went to the aid of the prostrate woman. Some water was brought, and presently the white eyelids opened. “My carriage is here,” said the lady, who had been intently regarding her. “Let me take you home with me for some tea.” “Oh, no, thank you! My home is quite near. I can reach it, I am all right now.”