I can't think why
he lets them."
"I will be there presently, Esmerelda," I said, turning away. It was
certainly not my place to allow her to stand there gossiping about her
employer.
I did not wait to brush my rumpled hair or bestow more than a passing
glance in the mirror, where I caught sight of a pair of wide, frightened
eyes and an unusually pale face. Mr. Winthrop was waiting for me in the
hall. In my excitement I still held in my hand the little sock I had been
knitting. He glanced at it curiously, but made no mention of it.
"Your pensioners have come--a beggarly looking crowd."
"Are there many?"
"Not more than a dozen. You will have to negotiate with Thomas to get
your gifts carted home. Their baskets will hold only a tithe of what
you have to donate."
"May I tell him to get the horses?"
I looked up at him, I dare say, appealingly; for I felt quite overwhelmed
with care. He smiled grimly.
"You may order all the servants to go to work--anything to get that crowd
away."
"Don't you feel sorry for them, Mr. Winthrop?" I pleaded. "Just think how
hard it is to be poor, and to come to you with a basket for vegetables."
"Yes, that last must be the bitterest drop in their misery," he said,
sarcastically. We were walking slowly around to the garden, but our
progress was much too swift for my courage. I would gladly have walked
the entire length of Cavendish to have escaped what had now become a very
difficult task. I resolved on one thing, however; not to be drawn into
any further conversation with Mr.
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