"I don't believe she could read Mrs Barnard's letter," said Dora. "No, not for tears," said Mary. "Do you think she could have understood you?" added Sophy. "Oh, yes; she understood well enough." "But how could she be so dull as not to be delighted?" said Sophy. "So ungrateful, too!" added Dora. "My dear Dora! It was the embarrassment of her gratitude that touched me so much," exclaimed Mary. "Do you really think she will not be enchanted to get away from that dismal hole, and live with honest people?" asked Sophy. "My dears, I think you have quite forgotten that Mrs Dan Hewlett is her sister." "Nobody would think so," said Dora. "If she could only take Johnnie and Judy away with her," said Sophy, "before their father has spoiled them." "You can't think she would refuse such an offer!" added Dora. "To be with a good, nice woman, and at peace among her friends. It really would be quite wicked in her to refuse." Nevertheless, Mary withstood all the entreaties of her sisters to go with her to hear Judith's decision. Edmund heard them persuading her, and in his peremptory manner desired them to desist. So they hovered about the garden and home-field waiting for news. But the news was not what they expected. Mrs Carbonel found Judith very tearful, but resolute. "I could not do it, ma'am! I am sorry, sorry to the heart, to seem ungrateful for her kindness; but, indeed, I could not do it. I cannot leave my sister and the children." "You would be so much more comfortable--so much better looked after." "Yes, ma'am, I know that. Mrs Gregg is one of the best of women, and so kind. It is very good of her to be willing to take me in; but--" "You need not be afraid of the journey. Mrs Barnard will come for you." "Oh yes, ma'am, I know; but there's my sister, ma'am, and her children. I could not leave them." "I was afraid they did not know how to take care of you, and that your brother-in-law was rough with you." "My sister have been much better of late, since you have been here, ma'am; and the poor children, ma'am, I can do something for them." "I see that John and Judy seem to respond to your care; but is it right to give up all your comfort and peace, and even your health, for so little as you are enabled to do for them? It would be better if there were some appreciation of your care, or some attention paid--" "Molly is generally good to me. Yes, she is, ma'am; and poor little Johnnie, there ain't nothing he would not do for me. I'm greatly obliged to Mrs Barnard and the dear young ladies. I would dearly like to see them again; but Molly is my sister, and my sister is my sister, and I can't feel it right to leave her." "I honour you, Judith. It is a right feeling. But when they neglect you, and prey upon you, can it be incumbent on you to give up all for their sakes?"