You are a sly, ungrateful girl, and it is very hard on me, a poor, struggling preacher very badly paid, to find that my only brother has left all his worldly goods to you, who are already well provided for.
What do you think yourself?
Wasn't it a shame on you to turn him against his brother ?" "Oh, I never did," said Valmai; "I never thought of such a thing! Dear, dear Uncle John! I didn't want his money, I only wanted his love." "What is the matter ?" said Gwen, coming in.
"Matter enough," said her master, in angry, stammering tones.

"John, my brother, has left all his money to this Judas of a girl! A hundred and fifty pounds a year, if you please! and only a paltry 100 pounds to me, and the same to Jim Harris, the sailor.

Ach y fi! the greediness of people is enough to turn on me." Between Gwen's exclamations and Essec Powell's angry harping on the same string, the evening was made miserable to Valmai, and she was glad enough to escape to her bedroom.
The next day she awoke with a throbbing headache.
"You are not going to chapel to-day, I suppose ?" said Gwen.
"No, my head aches too badly.

I have never missed before, but to-day I think I will rest at home." "Yes, rest at home, certainly," said Gwen.

"You ought to have stopped at home long ago; in my opinion, it would be more decent." Her meaning was too plain, and Valmai's head drooped as she answered: "Perhaps it would have been wiser, considering all things." "Considering all things, indeed!" sneered Gwen.