"I'm afraid there ain't but one side to hear," said Keziah. "I know I wondered to see how confused and kind of angry Mrs. Bowers seemed every time anybody asked her about Rhoda. Poor thing! No wonder she didn't write to any of the girls. I'll walk with you, Miss Hannah, if you don't mind." For as Keziah said when speaking of it next day, "I mistrusted the old lady might want help. I didn't like her looks. She was just as gray as ashes for a while and when her colour came again, it was all on one side of her face. She was getting an old woman, you see, and her heart was dreadful set on Rhoda." "Why, Aunt Hannah! Who expected to see you here so soon?" said Mrs. Bowers as her aunt entered. "Maria," said Miss Weightman, without any reply to the greeting, "what have you done with Rhoda?" "Rhoda? Oh, she is at school," answered Mrs. Bowers, trying very unsuccessfully to speak as if nothing were the matter. "You know she always wanted to go to school." "Don't lie to me, child!" said Aunt Hannah, so sternly that Maria started and turned pale. "I know that she is not at school. I have just had a letter from her. What has she done that she is turned off in this way?" "I never said she had done anything," answered Mrs. Bowers, beginning to cry. "I think it is too bad if I am to be called a liar in my own house. I am sure I never said one word against Rhoda; but when we had one of our own, it was different. And Uncle Jacob was always at us about her, and he said we needn't expect anything from him unless we would be guided by him; and an adopted child isn't the same as one's own." "It is, if possible, a more sacred charge," said Aunt Hannah. "Oh, Jacob, could not you be satisfied with destroying your own soul without bringing on yourself and these the curse of the orphan?" "I am sure it was all his fault," whimpered Mrs. Bowers; "and we had a right to do it. And the ladies at 'The Home' treated John shamefully. And I think Rhoda ought to be ashamed to abuse us so." "She has not abused you, nor will she do so, Maria; but the punishment will surely come, I fear. The wealth for which you and your husband have sold yourselves will eat as a canker if ever it is yours. You are bound—sold under sin, and the wages of sin is death. You have cast off the child you solemnly promised to cherish as your own. Do you think your boy will be the better for it? Do you think, if you were taken away, you would like to have him turned over to public charity? You and your husband have committed a grievous sin; and unless you repent, your sin will rise against you in the judgment day. What will you say when you are asked for the child which you were permitted to take into your charge?" "Aunt Hannah, I'll thank you to let my wife alone," said Mr. Bowers, who had hitherto sat silent. "I don't think it is any of your business. We took Rhoda and we have given her up again, and she is no worse off than she was before."