Master of the Vineyard

"I've noticed," Grandmother began, tremulously, "that you're getting high and mighty all of a sudden. You've gone out twice lately without askin' if you might go, and I won't have it. Do you understand?"

"I hear you," the girl answered. "Is that all?"

"No, 'tain't all. You don't seem to have any sense of your position. Here you are a poor orphan, beholden to your grandmother for every mouthful you eat and all the clothes you wear, and if you can't behave yourself better 'n you've been doin', you shan't stay."

A faint smile appeared around the corners of Rosemary's mouth, then vanished. "Very well, Grandmother," she answered, demurely, rising from her chair. "I'll go whenever you want me to. Shall I go now?"

"Set down," commanded the old lady. "I'd like to know where you'd go!"

"I'd go to Mrs. Marsh's; I think she'd take me in."

Rosemary's Rejoinder

"You've got another think comin' then," Grandmother sneered. "Didn't I tell you to set down?"

"Yes," returned Rosemary, coolly, "but I'm not going to. I said I had something to say to you. I'm going to be married next week to Alden Marsh. I've taken enough of the money my father left me to buy a white dress and a new hat, and the storekeeper has sent to the City for me for some white shoes and stockings. I'm going to have some pretty underwear, too, and a grey travelling dress. I've just come from the dressmakers, now."

"Money!" screamed the old lady. "So that's what you've been doin' in the attic. You're a thief, that's what you are! Your mother was----"

"Stop!" said Rosemary. Her voice was low and controlled, but her face was very white. "Not another word against my mother. You've slandered her for the last time. I am not a poor orphan, beholden to my grandmother for the food I eat and the clothes I wear. On the contrary, you and Aunt Matilda are dependent upon me, and have been for a good many years. I have father's letter here. Do you care to read it?"

Shaken from head to foot, the old lady sank into her chair. She was speechless, but her eyes blazed. Matilda sat by the window, dumb with astonishment. This was not at all what she had expected. Rosemary had drawn a yellow old letter from the recesses of her brown gingham gown and was offering it to Grandmother. The sight of it had affected the old lady powerfully.