That five women--for Dora was older than she had been when she began to do housework--should require servants, seemed to this New England-born girl mere laziness and pride.

That two voting women over twenty should prefer being supported by their brother to supporting themselves, she condemned even more sharply.

Moreover, she felt well assured that with a different family to "support," Mr.Warden would never have broken down so suddenly and irrecoverably.

Even that funeral--her face hardened as she thought of the conspicuous "lot," the continual flowers, the monument (not wholly paid for yet, that monument, though this she did not know)--all that expenditure to do honor to the man they had worked to death (thus brutally Diantha put it) was probably enough to put off their happiness for a whole year.
She rose at last, her hand still held in his.

"I'm sorry, but I've got to get supper, dear," she said, "and you must go.