She found herself taking his side, even knew
something of his impatience with Emma and her sorrows. When it came
to rebukes and charges against herself her impatience grew active.
She stood up again and endeavoured to make herself heard.
'What's the good of going on like this, mother? Just because you're
angry, that's no reason you should call us all the names you can
turn your tongue to. It's over and done with, and there's an end of
it. I don't know what you mean about disgracing you; I think you
might wait till the time comes. I don't see what I've done as you
can complain of.'
'No, of course you don't,' pursued her mother bitterly. 'It's the
money as prevents you from seeing it. Them as was good enough for
you before you haven't a word to say to now; a man as works honestly
for his living you make no account of. Well, well, you must go your
own way--'
'What is it you want, mother? You don't expect me to look no higher
than when I hadn't a penny but what I worked for? I've no patience
with you. You ought to be glad--'
'You haven't no patience, of course you haven't. And I'm to be glad
when a son of mine does things as he deserves to be sent to prison
for! I don't understand that kind o' gladness. But mind what I say;
do what you like with your money, I'll have no more part in it.
Pages:
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374