They would not want the watch; it would be
of no value to them; and the more she considered the matter, the
more like an act of charity appeared the favor she was about to
ask.
More than once on her way to Temple Street did she stop short,
resolved to get the money of some other person--the grocer, Mr.
Sneed, or even of a pawnbroker; but as often she rebuked the
pride that tormented her like a demon, and went forward again.
She stood some time at Mrs. Gordon's door before she had the
resolution to ring the bell.
"What right have I to be so proud?" said she, grasping the bell
handle. "I must get this money, or my mother may suffer."
She rang with a force that must have astonished Michael, and led
him to think some extraordinary character had arrived; for he ran
to the door at full speed, and burst out into a violent fit of
laughter, when he saw no one but the little candy merchant.
"Good morning, to you, Katy. Are you nervous this morning?" said
he.
"Good morning, Michael. I am not very nervous."
"I thought you would pull down the bell," he added,
good-naturedly.
"I didn't mean to, Michael; I hope you will excuse me if I did
any harm."
"Not a bit of harm; but you're looking as sober as a deacon. What
ails you, Katy?"
"I feel very sad, Michael; for my mother is very sick, and I
don't know as she will ever get well.
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