She stood near the window, and looked out at the clouds which were breaking after a brief shower.
'Wherever the money may have come from,' pursued her mother, 'it's cruel that it should go in this way.

We never wanted it worse than we do now.
It's my belief he's borrowed it himself; a nice thing to borrow for one's own needs, and then throw it away on such a good-for-nothing as that.' Emily turned and put a question quietly.
'Are you in more than usual need of money ?' 'Well, my dear, you know I always try to say as little about such things as I can, but now your father's been and borrowed--as of course he must have done--there's no choice but to tell you.

The house at Barnhill's going to be empty at the end of the quarter, and our rent here's going to be raised, and, all things coming together, we've had a good deal to make us anxious.

It's just like your father--wanting to make me believe that things are better than they really are; it always was his way, and what's the good of it I never could see.

Of course he means it well, but he'd far better have been open about it, and have told me what he was going to do.' Emily was shaken with agitation.
'Mother!' she exclaimed, 'why have you both insisted on keeping silence before me about your difficulties?
There was no kindness in it; you have done me the cruelest wrong.